I     * 


STORIES   FOR  BOYS 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR. 

GALLEGHER,    AND   OTHER    STORIES.     I  Vol.  I2mo. 
Cloth,  $1.00.     Paper,  50  cents. 

CINDERELLA,  AND  OTHER   STORIES.     I  Vol.  I2mo. 
Cloth,  $1.00. 


=)  ^       "j^w 


"I  never  saw  a  King,"  Gordon   remarked,  "and   I'm  sure  I  never  expected  to  see 
or.e  sitting  on  a  log  in  the  rain." 


STORIES  FOR  BOYS 


BY 


RICHARD   HARDING   DAVIS 
(t 


ILLUSTRATED 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S   SONS 
1896 


COPYRIGHT,   1891,  BY 
CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS. 


THIS    BOOK  OF   BOYS'   STORIES    IS   DEDICATED 
TO    MY    BROTHER 

C.    BELMONT    DAVIS 

WHO   WAS   A   BOY  ABOUT  THE  SAME  TIME   I   WAS 


M5001527 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

THE  REPORTER  WHO  MADE  HIMSELF  KING       1 

MIDSUMMER  PIRATES 88 

EICHARD  CARR'S  BABY 117 

THE    GREAT    TRI-CLUB    TENNIS    TOURNA 
MENT    «        130 

THE  JUMP  AT  COREY'S  SLIP 166 

THE  VAN  BIBBER  BASEBALL  CLUB  .     .     .  177 
THE  STORY  OF  A  JOCKEY 184 

vii 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


"  I    NEVER    SAW     A    KlNG  "     GoBDON     REMARKED, 

"AND  I'M  SURE  I  NEVER  EXPECTED  TO  SEE 

ONE  SITTING  ON  A  LOG   IN    THE  RAIN,"     Frontispiece 

PAGE 
"  ABOUT    TIME    TO    BEGIN    ON    THE    GOATS  !  "     .        .       44 

To   THE  NORTH  TOWERED   THREE  MAGNIFICENT 

HULLS    OF    THE  WHITE    SQUADRON,          ...       86 

"WHICH    DO    I    THINK    WILL    WIN  ? "    SAID    THE 

VETERAN    BOAT-BUILDER    OF   MANASQUAN,  .       96 

As  THE  TWO  PRESCOTTS  SCRAMBLED  UP  ON  THE 

GUNWALE      OF     THEIR      BOAT,     THE     DEFEATED 
CREW   SALUTED    THEM   WITH   CHEERS,     .       .       .112 

HE     TOOK     A    LARGE     ROLL     OF    BILLS     FROM     HIS 

POCKET   AND   COUNTED   THEM, 198 


THE  EEPOETER  WHO  MADE 
HIMSELF  KING. 


THE  Old  Time  Journalist  will  tell  you  the 
best  reporter  is  the  one  who  works  his  way 
up.  He  will  hold  that  the  only  way  to  start 
is  as  a  printer's  devil,  or  as  an  office  boy,  to 
learn  in  time  to  set  type,  to  graduate  from  a 
compositor  into  a  stenographer,  and  as  a 
stenographer  take  down  speeches  at  public 
meetings,  and  so  finally  grow  into  a  real  re 
porter,  with  a  fire  badge  on  your  left  suspen 
der,  and  a  speaking  acquaintance  with  all  the 
greatest  men  in  the  city,  not  even  excepting 
Police  Captains. 

That  is  the  old  time  journalist's  idea  of  it. 
That  is  the  way  he  was  trained,  and  that  is 
why  he  is  reporting  still.  If  you  train  up  a 
youth  in  this  way,  he  will  go  into  reporting 
with  too  full  a  knowledge  of  the  newspaper 
business,  with  no  illusions  concerning  it, 
and  with  no  ignorant  enthusiasms,  but  with 
a  keen  and  justifiable  impression  that  he  is 

l 


2  THE  EEPOETER    WHO 

not  paid  enough  for  what  he  does.     And  he 
will  only  do  what  he  is  paid  to  do.     Now, 
you  cannot  pay  a  good  reporter  for  what  he 
does,  because  he  does  not  work  for  pay.     He 
works  for  his  paper.     He  gives  his  time,  his 
health,  his  brains,  his  sleeping  hours,  and  his 
eating  hours,  and  life  sometimes,  to  get  news 
for  it.     He  thinks  the  sun  rises  only  that  men 
may  have  light  by  which  to  read  it.     But  if 
he  has  been  in  a  newspaper  office  from  his 
youth  up,  he  finds  out  before  he  becomes  a 
reporter  that  this  is  not  so,  and  loses  his  real 
value.     He  should   come   right   out   of  the 
University  where  he  has  been  doing  "  campus 
notes"  for  the  college  weekly,  and  be  pitch 
forked  out  into  city  work  without  knowing 
whether  the  Battery  is  at  Harlem  or  Hunter's 
Point,  and  with  the  idea  that  he  is  a  Moulder 
of  Public  Opinion  and  that  the  Power  of  the 
Press  is  greater  than  the  Power  of  Money, 
and  that  the  few  lines  he  writes  are  of  more 
value  in  the  Editor's  eyes  than  the  column 
of  advertising  on  the  last  page,  which  they 
are  not.     After  three  years  —  it  is  sometimes 
longer,  sometimes  not  so  long  —  he  finds  out 
that  he  has  given  his  nerves  and  his  youth 
and  his  enthusiasm  in  exchange  for  a  general 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  6 

fund  of  miscellaneous  knowledge,  the  oppor 
tunity  of  personal  encounter  with  all  the 
greatest  and  most  remarkable  men  and  events 
that  have  risen  in  those  three  years,  and  a 
great  readiness  of  resource,  and  patience.  He 
will  find  that  he  has  crowded  the  experiences 
of  the  lifetime  of  the  ordinary  young  business 
man,  doctor,  or  lawyer,  or  man  about  town, 
into  three  short  years ;  that  he  has  learnt  to 
think  and  to  act  quickly,  to  be  patient  and 
unmoved  when  every  one  else  has  lost  his 
head,  actually  or  figuratively  speaking;  to 
write  as  fast  as  another  man  can  talk,  and  to 
be  able  to  talk  with  authority  on  matters  of 
which  other  men  do  not  venture  even  to  think 
until  they  have  read  what  he  has  written  with 
a  copy-boy  at  his  elbow  on  the  night  pre 
vious. 

It  is  necessary  for  you  to  know  this,  that 
you  may  understand  what  manner  of  young 
man  young  Albert  Gordon  was. 

Young  Gordon  had  been  a  reporter  just 
three  years.  He  had  left  Yale  when  his  last 
living  relative  died,  and  taken  the  morning 
train  for  New  York,  where  they  had  promised 
him  reportorial  work  on  one  of  the  innumer 
able  Greatest  New  York  Dailies.  He  arrived 


4  THE  REPORTER    WHO 

at  the  office  at  noon,  and  was  sent  back  over 
the  same  road  on  which  he  had  just  come,  to 
Spuyten  Duyvil,  where  a  train  had  been 
wrecked  and  about  everybody  of  consequence 
to  suburban  New  York  killed.  One  of  the 
old  reporters  hurried  him  to  the  office  again 
with  his  "copy,"  and  after  he  had  delivered 
that,  he  was  sent  to  the  Tombs  to  talk  French 
to  a  man  in  Murderer's  Row,  who  could  not 
talk  anything  else,  but  who  had  shown  some 
international  skill  in  the  use  of  a  jimmy. 
And  at  eight,  he  covered  a  flower  show  in 
Madison  Square  Garden ;  and  at  eleven  was 
sent  over  the  Brooklyn  Bridge  in  a  cab  to 
watch  a  fire  and  make  guesses  at  the  insurance. 
He  went  to  bed  at  one,  and  dreamt  of  shat 
tered  locomotives,  human  beings  lying  still 
with  blankets  over  them,  rows  of  cells,  and 
banks  of  beautiful  flowers  nodding  their  heads 
to  the  tunes  of  the  brass  band  in  the  gallery. 
He  decided  when  he  awoke  the  next  morn 
ing  that  he  had  entered  upon  a  picturesque 
and  exciting  career,  and  as  one  day  followed 
another,  he  became  more  and  more  convinced 
of  it,  and  more  and  more  devoted  to  it.  He 
was  eighteen  then,  and  he  was  now  twenty- 
one,  and  in  that  time  had  become  a  great 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  5 

reporter,  and  had  been  to  Presidential  con 
ventions  in  Chicago,  revolutions  in  Hayti, 
Indian  outbreaks  on  the  Plains,  and  midnight 
meetings  of  moonlighters  in  Tennessee,  and 
had  seen  what  work  earthquakes,  floods,  fire, 
and  fever  could  do  in  great  cities,  and  had 
contradicted  the  President,  and  borrowed 
matches  from  burglars.  And  now  he  thought 
he  would  like  to  rest  and  breathe  a  bit,  and 
not  to  work  again  unless  as  a  war  correspon 
dent  or  as  a  novelist.  He  had  always  had 
enough  money  of  his  own  to  keep  him  alive, 
and  so  he  was  in  consequence  independent  of 
what  the  paper  gave  him.  The  only  obstacle 
to  his  becoming  a  great  war  correspondent 
lay  in  the  fact  that  there  was  no  war,  and  a 
war  correspondent  without  a  war  is  about  as 
absurd  an  individual  as  a  general  without  an 
army.  He  read  the  papers  every  morning  on 
the  elevated  trains  for  war  clouds ;  but  though 
there  were  many  war  clouds,  they  always 
drifted  apart,  and  peace  smiled  again.  This 
was  very  disappointing  to  young  Gordon,  and 
he  was  more  and  more  keenly  discouraged. 

And  then  as  war  work  was  out  of  the 
question,  he  decided  to  write  his  novel.  It 
was  to  be  a  novel  of  New  York  life,  and  he 


6  THE  REPORTER    WHO 

wanted  a  quiet  place  in  which  to  work  on  it. 
He  was  already  making  inquiries  among  the 
suburban  residents  of  his  acquaintance  for 
just  such  a  quiet  spot,  when  he  received  an 
offer  to  go  to  the  Island  of  Opeki  in  the 
South  Pacific  Ocean,  as  secretary  to  the 
American  consul  to  that  place.  The  gentle 
man  who  had  been  appointed  by  the  President 
to  act  as  consul  at  Opeki,  was  Captain 
Leonard  T.  Travis,  a  veteran  of  the  Civil 
War,  who  had  contracted  a  severe  attack  of 
rheumatism  while  camping  out  at  night  in  the 
dew,  and  who  011  account  of  this  souvenir  of 
his  efforts  to  save  the  Union  had  allowed  the 
Union  he  had  saved  to  support  him  in  one 
office  or  another  ever  since.  He  had  met 
young  Gordon  at  a  dinner,  and  had  had  the 
presumption  to  ask  him  to  serve  as  his  secre 
tary,  and  Gordon,  much  to  his  surprise,  had 
accepted  his  offer.  The  idea  of  a  quiet  life 
in  the  tropics  with  new  and  beautiful  sur 
roundings,  and  with  nothing  to  do  and  plenty 
of  time  in  which  to  do  it,  and  to  write  his 
novel  besides,  seemed  to  Albert  to  be  just 
what  he  wanted ;  and  though  he  did  not  know 
or  care  much  for  his  superior  officer,  he  agreed 
to  go  with  him  promptly,  and  proceeded  to  bid 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  1 

good  by  to  his  friends  and  to  make  his  prep 
arations.  Captain  Travis  was  so  delighted 
with  getting  such  a  clever  young  gentleman 
for  his  secretary,  that  he  referred  to  him  to  his 
friends  as  "my  attach^  of  legation";  nor  did 
he  lessen  that  gentleman's  dignity  by  telling 
any  one  that  the  attache's  salary  was  to  be 
$500  a  year.  His  own  salary  was  only  11500 ; 
and  though  his  brother-in-law,  Senator  Rains- 
ford,  tried  his  best  to  get  it  raised,  he. was 
unsuccessful.  The  consulship  to  Opeki  was 
instituted  early  in  the  '50's,  to  get  rid  of  and 
reward  a  third  or  fourth  cousin  of  the  Presi 
dent's,  whose  services  during  the  campaign 
were  important,  but  whose  after-presence  was 
embarrassing.  He  had  been  created  consul  to 
Opeki  as  being  more  distant  and  unaccessible 
than  any  other  known  spot,  and  had  lived 
and  died  there ;  and  so  little  was  known  of  the 
island,  and  so  difficult  was  communication 
with  it,  that  no  one  knew  he  was  dead,  until 
Captain  Travis,  in  his  hungry  haste  for  office, 
had  uprooted  the  sad  fact.  Captain  Travis, 
as  well  as  Albert,  had  a  secondary  reason  for 
wishing  to  visit  Opeki.  His  physician  had 
told  him  to  go  to  some  warm  climate  for  his 
rheumatism,  and  in  accepting  the  consulship 


8  THE  REPORTER    WHO 

his  object  was  rather  to  follow  out  his  doctor's 
orders  at  his  country's  expense,  than  to  serve 
his  country  at  the  expense  of  his  rheumatism. 

Albert  could  learn  but  very  little  of  Opeki ; 
nothing,  indeed,  but  that  it  was  situated  about 
one  hundred  miles  from  the  Island  of  Octa- 
via,  which  island,  in  turn,  was  simply  de 
scribed  as  a  coaling-station  three  hundred 
miles  from  the  coast  of  California.  Steamers 
from  San  Francisco  to  Yokohama  stopped 
every  third  week  at  Octavia,  and  that  was  all 
either  Captain  Travis  or  his  secretary  could 
learn  of  their  new  home.  This  was  so  very 
little,  that  Albert  stipulated  to  stay  only  as 
long  as  he  liked  it,  and  to  return  to  the  States 
within  a  few  months  if  he  found  such  a 
change  of  plan  desirable. 

As  he  was  going  to  what  was  an  almost 
undiscovered  country,  he  thought  it  would  be 
a  good  plan  to  furnish  himself  with  a  sup 
ply  of  articles  with  which  to  trade  with  the 
native  Opekians,  and  for  this  purpose  he  pur 
chased  a  large  quantity  of  brass  rods,  because 
he  had  read  that  Stanley  did  so,  and  added 
to  these,  brass  curtain  chains  and  about  two 
hundred  leaden  medals  similar  to  those  sold 
by  street  pedlers  during  the  Constitutional 


MADE  HIMSELF  KINQ.  9 

Centennial  celebration  in  New  York  City, 
and  which  were  cheap.  He  also  collected  even 
more  beautiful  but  less  expensive  decorations 
for  Christmas  trees,  at  a  wholesale  house  on 
Park  Row.  These  he  hoped  to  exchange  for 
furs  or  feathers  or  weapons,  or  for  whatever 
other  curious  and  valuable  trophies  the  Island 
of  Opeki  boasted.  He  already  pictured  his 
room  on  his  return  hung  fantastically  with 
crossed  spears  and  boomerangs,  feather  head 
dresses,  and  ugly  idols.  His  friends  told 
him  he  was  doing  a  very  foolish  thing,  and 
argued  that  once  out  of  the  newspaper  world, 
it  would  be  hard  to  regain  his  place  in  it. 
But  he  thought  the  novel  he  would  write 
while  lost  to  the  world  at  Opeki  would 
serve  to  make  up  for  his  temporary  absence 
from  it,  and  he  expressly  and  impressively 
stipulated  that  the  editor  should  wire  him  if 
there  was  a  war. 

Captain  Travis  and  his  secretary  crossed 
the  continent  without  adventure,  and  took  pas 
sage  from  San  Francisco  on  the  first  steamer 
that  touched  Octavia.  They  reached  that 
island  in  three  days,  and  learned  with  some 
concern  that  there  was  no  regular  commu 
nication  with  Opeki,  and  that  it  would  be 


10  THE  EEPOETEE   WHO 

necessary  to  charter  a  sail-boat  for  the  trip. 
Two  fishermen  agreed  to  take  them  and  their 
trunks,  and  to  get  them  to  their  destination 
within  sixteen  hours  if  the  wind  held  good. 
It  was  a  most  unpleasant  sail.  The  rain  fell 
with  calm,  relentless  persistence  from  what 
was  apparently  a  clear  sky;  the  wind  tossed 
the  waves  as  high  as  the  mast  and  made  Cap 
tain  Travis  ill.  There  was  no  deck  to  the 
big  boat,  and  they  were  forced  to  huddle  up 
under  pieces  of  canvas,  and  talked  but  little. 
Captain  Travis  complained  of  frequent 
twinges  of  rheumatism,  and  gazed  forlornly 
over  the  gunwale  at  the  empty  waste  of 
water. 

"If  I've  got  to  serve  a  term  of  imprison 
ment  on  a  rock  in  the  middle  of  the  ocean  for 
four  years,"  he  said,  "I  might  just  as  well 
have  done  something  first,  to  deserve  it. 
This  is  a  pretty  way  to  treat  a  man  who  bled 
for  his  country.  This  is  gratitude,  this  is." 
Albert  pulled  heavily  on  his  pipe,  and  wiped 
the  rain  and  spray  from  his  face  and  smiled. 

"Oh,  it  won't  be  so  bad  when  we  get 
there,"  he  said;  "they  say  these  Southern 
people  are  always  hospitable,  and  the  whites 
will  be  glad  to  see  any  one  from  the  States." 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  11 

"There  will  be  a  round  of  diplomatic 
dinners,"  said  the  consul,  with  an  attempt  at 
cheerfulness.  "  I  have  brought  two  uniforms 
to  wear  at  them." 

It  was  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening  when 
the  rain  ceased,  and  one  of  the  black,  half- 
naked  fishermen  nodded  and  pointed  at  a 
little  low  line  on  the  horizon. 

"  Opeki,"  he  said.  The  line  grew  in  length 
until  it  proved  to  be  an  island  with  great 
mountains  rising  to  the  clouds,  and  as  they 
drew  nearer  and  nearer,  showed  a  level  coast 
running  back  to  the  foot  of  the  mountains 
and  covered  with  a  forest  of  palms.  They 
next  made  out  a  village  of  thatched  huts 
around  a  grassy  square,  and  at  some  distance 
from  the  village  a  wooden  structure  with  a 
tin  roof. 

"I  wonder  where  the  town  is,"  asked  the 
consul,  with  a  nervous  glance  at  the  fisher 
men.  One  of  them  told  him  that  what  he 
saw  was  the  town. 

"  That  ?  "  gasped  the  consul ;  "  is  that  where 
all  the  people  on  the  island  live  ?  "  The  fish 
erman  nodded ;  but  the  other  added  that  there 
were  other  natives  up  in  the  mountains,  but 
that  they  were  bad  men  who  fought  and  ate 


12  THE  REPORTER    WHO 

each  other.  The  consul  and  his  attach^  of 
legation  gazed  at  the  mountains  with  un 
spoken  misgivings.  They  were  quite  near 
now,  and  could  see  an  immense  crowd  of  men 
and  women,  all  of  them  black,  and  clad  but 
in  the  simplest  garments,  waiting  to  receive 
them.  They  seemed  greatly  excited  and  ran 
in  and  out  of  the  huts,  and  up  and  down  the 
beach,  as  wildly  as  so  many  black  ants.  But 
in  the  front  of  the  group  they  distinguished 
three  men  who  they  could  see  were  white, 
though  they  were  clothed  like  the  others, 
simply  in  a  shirt  and  a  short  pair  of  trou 
sers.  Two  of  these  three  suddenly  sprang 
away  on  a  run  and  disappeared  among  the 
palm  trees ;  but  the  third  one,  who  had  recog 
nized  the  American  flag  in  the  halyards, 
threw  his  straw  hat  in  the  water  and  began 
turning  handsprings  over  the  sand. 

"That  young  gentleman,  at  least,"  said 
Albert,  gravely,  "seems  pleased  to  see  us." 

A  dozen  of  the  natives  sprang  into  the 
water  and  came  wading  and  swimming 
towards  them,  and  grinning  and  shouting 
and  swinging  their  arms. 

"I  don't  think  it's  quite  safe,  do  you?" 
said  the  consul,  looking  out  wildly  to  the 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  13 

open  sea.  "  You  see,  they  don't  know  who 
I  am." 

A  great  black  giant  threw  one  arm  over  the 
gunwale  and  shouted  something  that  sounded 
as  if  it  were  spelt  Owah,  Owah,  as  the  boat 
carried  him  through  the  surf. 

"How  do  you  do?"  said  Gordon,  doubt 
fully.  The  boat  shook  the  giant  off  under 
the  wave  and  beached  itself  so  suddenly  that 
the  American  consul  was  thrown  forward  to 
his  knees.  Gordon  did  not  wait  to  pick  him 
up,  but  jumped  out  and  shook  hands  with  the 
young  man  who  had  turned  handsprings, 
while  the  natives  gathered  about  them  in  a 
circle  and  chatted  and  laughed  in  delighted 
excitement. 

"I'm  awful  glad  to  see  you,"  said  the  young 
man,  eagerly.  "My  name's  Stedman.  I'm 
from  New  Haven,  Connecticut.  Where  are 
you  from?" 

"New  York,"  said  Albert.  "This,"  he 
added,  pointing  solemnly  to  Captain  Travis, 
who  was  still  on  his  knees  in  the  boat,  "  is 
the  American  consul  to  Opeki."  The  Amer 
ican  consul  to  Opeki  gave  a  wild  look  at 
Mr.  Stedman  of  New  Haven  and  at  the 
natives. 


14  THE  REPORTER    WHO 

"See  here,  young  man,"  he  gasped,  "is 
this  all  there  is  of  Opeki  ?  " 

"  The  American  consul?"  said  young  Sted- 
man,  with  a  gasp  of  amazement,  and  looking 
from  Albert  to  Captain  Travis.  "Why,  I 
never  supposed  they  would  send  another 
here;  the  last  one  died  about  fifteen  years 
ago,  and  there  hasn't  been  one  since.  I've 
been  living  in  the  consul's  office  with  the 
Bradleys,  but  I'll  move  out,  of  course.  I'm 
sure  I'm  awfully  glad  to  see  you  It'll  make 
it  more  pleasant  for  me." 

"Yes,"  said  Captain  Travis,  bitterly,  as  he 
lifted  his  rheumatic  leg  over  the  boat ;  "  that's 
why  we  came." 

Mr.  Stedman  did  not  notice  this  He  was 
too  much  pleased  to  be  anything  but  hospi 
table.  "You  are  soaking  wet,  aren't  you?" 
he  said;  "and  hungry,  I  guess.  You  come 
right  over  to  the  consul's  office  and  get  on 
some  other  things." 

He  turned  to  the  natives  and  gave  some 
rapid  orders  in  their  language,  and  some 
of  them  jumped  into  the  boat  at  this,  and 
began  lifting  out  the  trunks,  and  others  ran 
off  towards  a  large,  stout  old  native,  who 
was  sitting  gravely  on  a  log,  smoking,  with 
the  rain  beating  unnoticed  on  his  gray  hair. 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  15 

"  They've  gone  to  tell  the  King,"  said  Sted- 
man ;  "  but  you  both  better  get  something  to 
eat  first,  and  then  I'll  be  happy  to  present 
you  properly." 

"The  King,"  said  Captain  Travis,  with 
some  awe ;  "  is  there  a  king  ?  " 

"I  never  saw  a  king,"  Gordon  remarked, 
"and  I'm  sure  I  never  expected  to  see  one 
sitting  on  a  log  in  the  rain." 

"He's  a  very  good  King,"  said  Stedman, 
confidentially;  "and  though  you  mightn't 
think  it  to  look  at  him,  he's  a  terrible  stick 
ler  for  etiquette  and  form.  After  supper 
he'll  give  you  an  audience;  and  if  you  have 
any  tobacco,  you  had  better  give  him  some  as 
a  present,  and  you'd  better  say  it's  from  the 
President:  he  doesn't  like  to  take  presents 
from  common  people,  he's  so  proud.  The 
only  reason  he  borrows  mine  is  because  he 
thinks  I'm  the  President's  son." 

"What  makes  him  think  that?"  demanded 
the  consul,  with  some  shortness.  Young  Mr. 
Stedman  looked  nervously  at  the  consul  and 
at  Albert,  and  said  that  he  guessed  some  one 
must  have  told  him.  The  consul's  office 
was  divided  into  four  rooms  with  an  open 
court  in  the  middle,  filled  with  palms,  and 


16  THE  EEPORTEE    WHO 

watered  somewhat  unnecessarily  by  a  foun 
tain. 

"I  made  that,"  said  Stedman,  in  a  modest 
off-hand  way.  "I  made  it  out  of  hollow 
bamboo  reeds  connected  with  a  spring.  And 
now  I'm  making  one  for  the  King.  He  saw 
this  and  had  a  lot  of  bamboo  sticks  put  up 
all  over  the  town,  without  any  underground 
connections,  and  couldn't  make  out  why  the 
water  wouldn't  spurt  out  of  them.  And 
because  mine  spurts,  he  thinks  I'm  a  magi 
cian." 

"I  suppose,"  grumbled  the  consul, "some 
one  told  him  that,  too." 

"  I  suppose  so,"  said  Mr.  Stedman,  uneasily. 

There  was  a  veranda  around  the  consul's 
office,  and  inside,  the  walls  were  hung  with 
skins,  and  pictures  from  illustrated  papers, 
and  there  was  a  good  deal  of  bamboo  furni 
ture,  and  four  broad,  cool-looking  beds. 
The  place  was  as  clean  as  a  kitchen.  "I 
made  the  furniture,"  said  Stedman,  "and  the 
Bradleys  keep  the  place  in  order." 

"Who  are  the  Bradleys?"  asked  Albert. 

"  The  Bradleys  are  those  two  men  you  saw 
with  me,"  said  Stedman ;  "  they  deserted  from 
a  British  man-of-war  that  stopped  here  for 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  17 

coal,  and  they  act  as  my  servants.  One  is 
Bradley,  Sr.,  and  the  other,  Bradley,  Jr." 

"Then  vessels  do  stop  here,  occasionally?" 
the  consul  said,  with  a  pleased  smile. 

"Well,  not  often,"  said  Stedman.  "Not 
so  very  often ;  about  once  a  year.  The  Nel 
son  thought  this  was  Octavia,  and  put  off 
again  as  soon  as  she  found  out  her  mistake, 
and  the  Bradleys  took  to  the  bush,  and  the 
boat's  crew  couldn't  find  them.  When  they 
saw  your  flag,  they  thought  you  might  mean 
to  send  them  back,  so  they  ran  off  to  hide 
again:  they'll  be  back,  though,  when  they 
get  hungry." 

The  supper  young  Stedman  spread  for  his 
guests,  as  he  still  treated  them,  was  very 
refreshing  and  very  good.  There  was  cold 
fish  and  pigeon  pie,  and  a  hot  omelet  filled 
with  mushrooms  and  olives  and  tomatoes 
and  onions  all  sliced  up  together,  and  strong 
black  coffee.  After  supper,  Stedman  went 
off  to  see  the  King  and  came  back  in  a  little 
while  to  say  that  his  Majesty  would  give 
them  an  audience  the  next  day  after  break 
fast.  "It  is  too  dark  now,"  Stedman  ex 
plained;  "and  it's  raining  so  that  they  can't 
make  the  street  lamps  burn.  Did  you  hap- 


18  THE  REPORTER    WHO 

pen  to  notice  our  lamps  ?  I  invented  them ; 
but  they  don't  work  very  well,  yet.  I've 
got  the  right  idea,  though,  and  I'll  soon  have 
the  town  illuminated  all  over,  whether  it 
rains  or  not." 

The  consul  had  been  very  silent  and  indif 
ferent,  during  supper,  to  all  around  him. 
Now  he  looked  up  with  some  show  of  inter 
est. 

"  How  much  longer  is  it  going  to  rain,  do 
you  think?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  said  Stedman,  criti 
cally.  "  Not  more  than  two  months,  I  should 
say."  The  consul  rubbed  his  rheumatic  leg 
and  sighed,  but  said  nothing. 

The  Bradleys  turned  up  about  ten  o'clock, 
and  came  in  very  sheepishly,  pulling  at  their 
forelocks  and  scraping  with  their  left  foot. 
The  consul  had  gone  off  to  pay  the  boatmen 
who  had  brought  them,  and  Albert  in  his 
absence  assured  the  sailors  that  there  was 
not  the  least  danger  of  their  being  sent 
away.  Then  he  turned  into  one  of  the  beds, 
and  Stedman  took  one  in  another  room,  leav 
ing  the  room  he  had  occupied  heretofore, 
for  the  consul.  As  he  was  saying  good 
night,  Albert  suggested  that  he  had  not  yet 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  19 

told  them  how  he  came  to  be  on  a  deserted 
island;  but  Stedman  only  laughed  and  said 
that  that  was  a  long  story,  and  that  he  would 
tell  him  all  about  it  in  the  morning.  So 
Albert  went  off  to  bed  without  waiting  for 
the  consul  to  return,  and  fell  asleep,  wonder 
ing  at  the  strangeness  of  his  new  life,  and 
assuring  himself  that  if  the  rain  only  kept 
up,  he  would  have  his  novel  finished  in  a 
month. 

The  sun  was  shining  brightly  when  he 
awoke,  and  the  palm  trees  outside  were 
nodding  gracefully  in  a  warm  breeze.  From 
the  court  came  the  odor  of  strange  flowers, 
and  from  the  window  he  could  see  the  ocean 
brilliantly  blue,  and  with  the  sun  coloring 
the  spray  that  beat  against  the  coral  reefs  on 
the  shore. 

"Well,  the  consul  can't  complain  of  this," 
he  said,  with  a  laugh  of  satisfaction;  and 
pulling  on  a  bath-robe,  he  stepped  into  the 
next  room  to  awaken  Captain  Travis.  But 
the  room  was  quite  empty,  and  the  bed 
undisturbed.  The  consul's  trunk  remained 
just  where  it  had  been  placed  near  the  door, 
and  on  it  lay  a  large  sheet  of  foolscap,  with 
writing  on  it,  and  addressed  at  the  top  to 


20  THE   EEPORTER    WHO 

Albert  Gordon.  The  handwriting  was  the 
consul's.  Albert  picked  it  up  and  read  it 
with  much  anxiety.  It  began  abruptly :  — 

"The  fishermen  who  brought  us  to  this 
forsaken  spot  tell  me  that  it  rains  here  six 
months  in  the  year,  and  that  this  is  the  first 
month.  I  came  here  to  serve  my  country, 
for  which  I  fought  and  bled,  but  I  did  not 
come  here  to  die  of  rheumatism  and  pneumo 
nia.  I  can  serve  my  country  better  by  stay 
ing  alive ;  and  whether  it  rains  or  not,  I  don't 
like  it.  I  have  been  grossly  deceived,  and  I 
am  going  back.  Indeed,  by  the  time  you  get 
this,  I  will  be  on  my  return  trip,  as  I  intend 
leaving  with  the  men  who  brought  us  here  as 
soon  as  they  can  get  the  sail  up.  My  cousin, 
Senator  Rainsford,  can  fix  it  all  right  with 
the  President,  and  can  have  me  recalled  in 
proper  form  after  I  get  back.  But  of  course 
it  would  not  do  for  me  to  leave  my  post  with 
no  one  to  take  my  place,  and  no  one  could  be 
more  ably  fitted  to  do  so  than  yourself;  so  I 
feel  no  compunctions  at  leaving  you  behind. 
I  hereby,  therefore,  accordingly  appoint  you 
my  substitute  with  full  power  to  act,  to 
collect  all  fees,  sign  all  papers,  and  attend 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  21 

to  all  matters   pertaining   to   your  office  as 
American  consul,  and  I  trust  you  will  wor 
thily  uphold  the  name  of  that  country  and 
government  which   it   has    always   been   my 
pleasure  and  duty  to  serve. 
"  Your  sincere  friend  and  superior  officer, 
"LEONARD  T.  TRAVIS. 

"P.S.  I  did  not  care  to  disturb  you  by 
moving  my  trunk,  so  I  left  it,  and  you  can 
make  what  use  you  please  of  whatever  it 
contains,  as  I  shall  not  want  tropical  gar 
ments  where  I  am  going.  What  you  will 
need  most,  I  think,  is  a  waterproof  and  um 
brella. 

" P.S.  Look  out  for  that  young  man  Sted- 
man.  He  is  too  inventive.  I  hope  you  will 
like  your  high  office;  but  as  for  me,  I  am 
satisfied  with  little  old  New  York.  Opeki  is 
just  a  bit  too  far  from  civilization  to  suit  me. " 

Albert  held  the  letter  before  him  and  read 
it  over  again  before  he  moved.  Then  he 
jumped  to  the  window.  The  boat  was  gone, 
and  there  was  not  a  sign  of  it  on  the  horizon. 

"The  miserable  old  hypocrite!"  he  cried, 
half  angry  and  half  laughing.  "  If  he  thinks 
I  am  going  to  stay  here  alone  he  is  very 


22  THE  REPORTER    WHO 

greatly  mistaken.  And  yet,  why  not?"  he 
asked.  He  stopped  soliloquizing  and  looked 
around  him,  thinking  rapidly.  As  he  stood 
there,  Stedman  came  in  from  the  other  room, 
fresh  and  smiling  from  his  morning's  bath. 

"Good  morning,"  he  said,  "where's  the 
consul?" 

"The  consul,"  said  Albert,  gravely,  "is 
before  you.  In  me  you  see  the  American 
consul  to  Opeki." 

"Captain  Travis,"  Albert  explained,  "has 
returned  to  the  United  States.  I  suppose  he 
feels  that  he  can  best  serve  his  country  by 
remaining  on  the  spot.  In  case  of  another 
war,  now,  for  instance,  he  would  be  there  to 
save  it  again." 

"  And  what  are  you  going  to  do  ?  "  asked 
Stedman,  anxiously.  "You  will  not  run 
away  too,  will  you  ?  " 

Albert  said  that  he  intended  to  remain 
where  he  was  and  perform  his  consular  duties, 
to  appoint  him  his  secretary  of  legation,  and 
to  elevate  the  United  States  in  the  opinion 
of  the  Opekians  above  all  other  nations. 

"They  may  not  think  much  of  the  United 
States  in  Russia,"  he  said;  "but  we  are  going 
to  teach  Opeki  that  America  is  first  on  the 
map,  and  there  is  no  second." 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  23 

"I'm  sure  it's  very  good  of  you  to  make 
me  your  secretary,"  said  Stedman,  with  some 
pride.  "I  hope  I  won't  make  any  mistakes. 
What  are  the  duties  of  a  consul's  secretary?  " 

"That,"  said  Albert,  "I  do  not  know. 
But  you  are  rather  good  at  inventing,  so  you 
can  invent  a  few.  That  should  be  your  first 
duty,  and  you  should  attend  to  it  at  once.  I 
will  have  trouble  enough  finding  work  for 
myself.  Your  salary  is  1500  a  year;  and 
now,"  he  continued,  briskly,  "we  want  to 
prepare  for  this  reception.  We  can  tell  the 
King  that  Travis  was  just  a  guard  of  honor 
for  the  trip,  and  that  I  have  sent  him  back 
to  tell  the  President  of  my  safe  arrival. 
That  will  keep  the  President  from  getting 
anxious.  There  is  nothing,"  continued 
Albert,  "like  a  uniform  to  impress  people 
who  live  in  the  tropics,  and  Travis,  it  so 
happens,  has  two  in  his  trunk.  He  intended 
to  wear  them  on  State  occasions,  and  as  I 
inherit  the  trunk  and  all  that  is  in  it,  I  in 
tend  to  wear  one  of  the  uniforms,  and  you 
can  have  the  other.  But  I  have  first  choice, 
because  I  am  consul.'* 

Captain  Travis 's  diplomatic  outfit  consisted 
of  one  full  dress  and  one  undress  United 


24  THE  REPORTER    WHO 

States  uniform.  Albert  put  on  the  dress  coat 
over  a  pair  of  white  flannel  trousers,  and 
looked  remarkably  brave  and  handsome.  Sted- 
man,  who  was  only  eighteen  and  quite  thin, 
did  not  appear  so  well,  until  Albert  suggested 
his  padding  out  his  chest  and  shoulders  with 
towels.  This  made  him  rather  warm,  but 
helped  his  general  appearance. 

"The  two  Bradleys  must  dress  up  too," 
said  Albert.  "I  think  they  ought  to  act  as 
a  guard  of  honor,  don't  you  ?  The  only  things 
I  have  are  blazers  and  jerseys;  but  it  doesn't 
much  matter  what  they  wear,  as  long  as  they 
dress  alike." 

He  accordingly  called  in  the  two.  Bradleys, 
and  gave  them  each  a  pair  of  the  captain's 
rejected  white  duck  trousers,  and  a  blue 
jersey  apiece,  with  a  big  white  Y  on  it. 

"The  students  of  Yale  gave  me  that,"  he 
said  to  the  younger  Bradley,  "in  which  to 
play  football,  and  a  great  man  gave  me  the 
other.  His  name  is  Walter  Camp;  and  if 
you  rip  or  soil  that  jersey,  I'll  send  you  back 
to  England  in  irons;  so  be  careful." 

Stedman  gazed  at  his  companions  in  their 
different  costumes,  doubtfully.  "  It  reminds 
me,"  he  said,  " of  private  theatricals.  Of  the 
time  our  church  choir  played  'Pinafore.'  " 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  25 

"  Yes, "  assented  Albert ;  "  but  I  don't  think 
we  look  quite  gay  enough.  I  tell  you  what  we 
need,  — medals.  You  never  saw  a  diplomat 
without  a  lot  of  decorations  and  medals." 

"Well,  I  can  fix  that,"  Stedman  said. 
"I've  got  a  bag  full.  I  used  to  be  the  fast 
est  bicycle-rider  in  Connecticut,  and  I've  got 
all  my  prizes  with  me." 

Albert  said  doubtfully  that  that  wasn't 
exactly  the  sort  of  medal  he  meant. 

"Perhaps  not,"  returned  Stedman,  as  he 
began  fumbling  in  his  trunk ;  "  but  the  King 
won't  know  the  difference.  He  couldn't  tell 
a  cross  of  the  Legion  of  Honor  from  a  medal 
for  the  tug  of  war." 

So  the  bicycle  medals,  of  which  Stedman 
seemed  to  have  an  innumerable  quantity, 
were  strung  in  profusion  over  Albert's  uni 
form,  and  in  a  lesser  quantity  over  Sted- 
man's;  while  a  handful  of  leaden  ones,  those 
sold  on  the  streets  for  the  Constitutional 
Centennial,  with  which  Albert  had  provided 
himself,  were  wrapped  up  in  a  red  silk  hand 
kerchief  for  presentation  to  the  King:  with 
them  Albert  placed  a  number  of  brass  rods 
and  brass  chains,  much  to  Stedman 's  de 
lighted  approval. 


26  THE  REPORTER    WHO 

"That  is  a  very  good  idea,"  he  said. 
"Democratic  simplicity  is  the  right  thing 
at  home,  of  course  ;  but  when  you  go 
abroad  and  mix  with  crowned  heads,  you 
want  to  show  them  that  you  know  what's 
what." 

"Well, "said  Albert,  gravely,  "I  sincerely 
hope  this  crowned  head  don't  know  what's 
what.  If  he  reads  '  Connecticut  Agricultural 
State  Fair.  One  mile  bicycle  race.  First 
Prize,'  on  this  badge,  when  we  are  trying  to 
make  him  believe  it's  a  war  medal,  it  may 
hurt  his  feelings." 

Bradley,  Jr.,  went  ahead  to  announce  the 
approach  of  the  American  embassy,  which 
he  did  with  so  much  manner  that  the  King 
deferred  the  audience  a  half-hour,  in  order 
that  he  might  better  prepare  to  receive  his 
visitors.  When  the  audience  did  take  place, 
it  attracted  the  entire  population  to  the  green 
spot  in  front  of  the  King's  palace,  and  their 
delight  and  excitement  over  the  appearance 
of  the  visitors  was  sincere  and  hearty.  The 
King  was  too  polite  to  appear  much  surprised, 
but  he  showed  his  delight  over  his  presents 
as  simply  and  openly  as  a  child.  Thrice  he 
insisted  on  embracing  Albert,  and  kissing 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  27 

him  three  times  on  the  forehead,  which,  Sted- 
man  assured  him  in  a  side  whisper,  was  a 
great  honor ;  an  honor  which  was  not  extended 
to  the  secretary,  although  he  was  given  a 
necklace  of  animals'  claws  instead,  with 
which  he  was  better  satisfied. 

After  this  reception,  the  embassy  marched 
back  to  the  consul's  office,  surrounded  by  an 
immense  number  of  the  natives,  some  of 
whom  ran  ahead  and  looked  back  at  them, 
and  crowded  so  close  on  them  that  the  two 
Bradleys  had  to  poke  at  the  nearest  ones  with 
their  guns.  The  crowd  remained  outside  the 
office  even  after  the  procession  of  four  had 
disappeared,  and  cheered.  This  suggested 
to  Gordon  that  this  would  be  a  good  time 
to  make  a  speech,  which  he  accordingly  did, 
Stedman  translating  it,  sentence  by  sentence. 
At  the  conclusion  of  this  effort,  Albert  dis 
tributed  a  number  of  brass  rings  among  the 
married  men  present,  which  they  placed  on 
whichever  finger  fitted  best,  and  departed 
delighted. 

Albert  had  wished  to  give  the  rings  to  the 
married  women,  but  Stedman  pointed  out  to 
him  that  it  would  be  much  cheaper  to  give 
them  to  the  married  men;  for  while  one 


28  THE  REPORTER    WHO 

woman  could   only  have    one   husband,  one 
man  could  have  at  least  six  wives. 

"And  now,  Stedman,"  said  Albert,  after 
the  mob  had  gone,  "tell  me  what  you  are 
doing  on  this  island." 

"It's  a  very  simple  story,"  Stedman  said. 
"  I  am  the  representative,  or  agent,  or  opera 
tor,  for  the  Yokohama  Cable  Company.  The 
Yokohama  Cable  Company  is  a  company 
started  in  San  Francisco,  for  the  purpose  of 
laying  a  cable  to  Yokohama.  It  is  a  stock 
company;  and  though  it  started  out  very  well, 
the  stock  has  fallen  very  low.  Between  our 
selves,  it  is  not  worth  over  three  or  four  cents. 
When  the  officers  of  the  company  found  out 
that  no  one  would  buy  their  stock,  and  that 
no  one  believed  in  them  or  their  scheme,  they 
laid  a  cable  to  Octavia,  and  extended  it  on  to 
this  island.  Then  they  said  they  had  run  out 
of  ready  money,  and  would  wait  until  they 
got  more  before  laying  their  cable  any  fur 
ther.  I  do  not  think  they  ever  will  lay  it 
any  further,  but  that  is  none  of  my  business. 
My  business  is  to  answer  cable  messages 
from  San  Francisco,  so  that  the  people  who 
visit  the  home  office  can  see  at  least  a  part 
of  the  cable  is  working.  That  sometimes 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  29 

impresses  them,  and  they  buy  stock.  There 
is  another  chap  over  in  Octavia,  who  relays 
all  my  messages  and  all  my  replies  to  those 
messages  that  come  to  me  through  him  from 
San  Francisco.  They  never  send  a  message 
unless  they  have  brought  some  one  to  the 
office  whom  they  want  to  impress,  and  who, 
they  think,  has  money  to  invest  in  the  Y.  C. 
C.  stock,  and  so  we  never  go  near  the  wire, 
except  at  three  o'clock  every  afternoon.  And 
then  generally  only  to  say  '  How  are  you  ? ' 
or  'It's  raining,'  or  something  like  that. 
I've  been  saying  'It's  raining '  now  for  the 
last  three  months,  but  to-day  I  will  say  that 
the  new  consul  has  arrived.  That  will  be  a 
pleasant  surprise  for  the  chap  in  Octavia,  for 
he  must  be  tired  hearing  about  the  weather. 
He  generally  answers  'Here  too,'  or  'So  you 
said,'  or  something  like  that.  I  don't  know 
what  he  says  to  the  home  office.  He's 
brighter  than  I  am,  and  that's  why  they  put 
him  between  the  two  ends.  He  can  see  that 
the  messages  are  transmitted  more  fully  and 
more  correctly,  in  a  way  to  please  possible 
subscribers." 

"Sort  of  copy  editor,"  suggested  Albert. 

"Yes,  something  of  that  sort,  I   fancy," 
said  Stedman. 


30  THE  EEPOETEE    WHO 

They  walked  down  to  the  little  shed  on 
the  shore,  where  the  Y.  C.  C.  office  was 
placed,  at  three  that  day,  and  Albert  watched 
Stedman  send  off  his  message  with  much  in 
terest.  The  "chap  at  Octavia,"  on  being  in 
formed  that  the  American  consul  had  arrived 
at  Opeki,  inquired  somewhat  disrespectfully, 
"Is  it  a  life  sentence?" 

"What  does  he  mean  by  that?"  asked 
Albert. 

"  I  suppose,"  said  his  secretary,  doubtfully, 
"  that  he  thinks  it  a  sort  of  a  punishment  to 
be  sent  to  Opeki.  I  hope  you  don't  grow  to 
think  so." 

" Opeki  is  all  very  well,"  said  Gordon,  "or 
it  will  be  when  we  get  things  going  our 
way." 

As  they  walked  back  to  the  office,  Albert 
noticed  a  brass  cannon,  perched  on  a  rock 
at  the  entrance  to  the  harbor.  This  had 
been  put  there  by  the  last  consul,  but  had 
not  been  fired  for  many  years.  Albert  im 
mediately  ordered  the  two  Bradleys  to  get  it 
in  order,  and  to  rig  up  a  flag-pole  beside  it, 
for  one  of  his  American  flags,  which  they 
were  to  salute  every  night  when  they  lowered 
it  at  sundown. 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  31 

"And  when  we  are  not  using  it,"  he  said, 
"  the  King  can  borrow  it  to  celebrate  with,  if 
he  doesn't  impose  on  us  too  often.  The  royal 
salute  ought  to  be  twenty-one  guns,  I  think ; 
but  that  would  use  up  too  much  powder,  so 
he  will  have  to  content  himself  with  two." 

"Did  you  notice,"  asked  Stedman  that 
night,  as  they  sat  on  the  veranda  of  the  con 
sul's  house,  in  the  moonlight,  "how  the  peo 
ple  bowed  to  us  as  we  passed?" 

"Yes,"  Albert  said  he  had  noticed  it. 
"Why?" 

"Well,  they  never  saluted  me,"  replied 
Stedman.  "That  sign  of  respect  is  due  to 
the  show  we  made  at  the  reception." 

"It  is  due  to  us,  in  any  event,"  said  the 
consul,  severely.  "  I  tell  you,  my  secretary, 
that  we,  as  the  representatives  of  the  United 
States  government,  must  be  properly  honored 
on  this  island.  We  must  become  a  power. 
And  we  must  do  so  without  getting  into 
trouble  with  the  King.  We  must  make  them 
honor  him,  too,  and  then  as  we  push  him  up, 
we  will  push  ourselves  up  at  the  same  time." 

"They  don't  think  much  of  consuls  in 
Opeki,"  said  Stedman,  doubtfully.  "You 
see  the  last  one  was  a  pretty  poor  sort.  He 


32  THE  REPORTER    WHO 

brought  the  office  into  disrepute,  and  it 
wasn't  really  until  I  came  and  told  them 
what  a  fine  country  the  United  States  was, 
that  they  had  any  opinion  of  it  at  all.  Now 
we  must  change  all  that." 

"That  is  just  what  we  will  do,"  said 
Albert.  "We  will  transform  Opeki  into  a 
powerful  and  beautiful  city.  We  will  make 
these  people  work.  They  must  put  up  a  pal 
ace  for  the  King,  and  lay  out  streets,  and 
build  wharves,  and  drain  the  town  properly, 
and  light  it.  I  haven't  seen  this  patent 
lighting  apparatus  of  yours,  but  you  had 
better  get  to  work  at  it  at  once,  and  I'll  per 
suade  the  King  to  appoint  you  commissioner 
of  highways  and  gas,  with  authority  to  make 
his  people  toil.  And  I,"  he  cried,  in  free 
enthusiasm,  "will  organize  a  navy  and  a 
standing  army.  Only,"  he  added,  with  a 
relapse  of  interest,  "there  isn't  anybody  to 

fight." 

"There  isn't?"  said  Stedman,  grimly, 
with  a  scornful  smile.  "You  just  go  hunt 
up  old  Messenwah  and  the  Hillmen  with  your 
standing  army  once,  and  you'll  get  all  the 
fighting  you  want." 

"The  Hillmen?"  said  Albert. 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  33 

"  The  Hillmen  are  the  natives  that  live  up 
there  in  the  hills,"  Stedman  said,  nodding 
his  head  towards  the  three  high  mountains 
at  the  other  end  of  the  island,  that  stood  out 
blackly  against  the  purple,  moonlit  sky. 
"  There  are  nearly  as  many  of  them  as  there 
are  Opekians,  and  they  hunt  and  fight  for  a 
living  and  for  the  pleasure  of  it.  They  have 
an  old  rascal  named  Messenwah  for  a  king, 
and  they  come  down  here  about  once  every 
three  months,  and  tear  things  up."  Albert 
sprang  to  his  feet. 

"  Oh,  they  do,  do  they?"  he  said,  staring  up 
at  the  mountain  tops.  "They  come  down 
here  and  tear  up  things,  do  they?  Well,  I 
think  we'll  stop  that,  I  think  we'll  stop  that! 
I  don't  care  how  many  there  are.  I'll  get  the 
two  Bradleys  to  tell  me  all  they  know  about 
the  drilling,  to-morrow  morning,  and  we'll 
drill  these  Opekians,  and  have  sham  battles, 
and  attacks,  and  repulses,  until  I  make  a  lot 
of  wild,  howling  Zulus  out  of  them.  And 
when  the  Hillmen  come  down  to  pay  their 
quarterly  visit,  they'll  go  back  again  on  a 
run.  At  least  some  of  them  will,"  he  added 
ferociously.  "  Some  of  them  will  stay  right 
here." 


34  THE  REPORTER    WHO 

"  Dear  me,  dear  me !  "  said  Stedman,  with 
awe;  "you  are  a  born  fighter,  aren't  you?" 

"Well,  you  wait  and  see,"  said  Gordon; 
"may  be  I  am.  I  haven't  studied  tactics  of 
war  and  the  history  of  battles,  so  that  I  might 
be  a  great  war  correspondent,  without  learn 
ing  something.  And  there  is  only  one  king 
on  this  island,  and  that  is  old  Ollypybus 
himself.  And  I'll  go  over  and  have  a  talk 
with  him  about  it  to-morrow." 

Young  Stedman  walked  up  and  down  the 
length  of  the  veranda,  in  and  out  of  the 
moonlight,  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  and 
his  head  on  his  chest.  "  You  have  me  all 
stirred  up,  Gordon,"  he  said;  "you  seem  so 
confident  and  bold,  and  you're  not  so  much 
older  than  I  am,  either." 

"My  training  has  been  different;  that's 
all,"  said  the  reporter. 

"Yes,"  Stedman  said  bitterly;  "I  have 
been  sitting  in  an  office  ever  since  I  left 
school,  sending  news  over  a  wire  or  a  cable, 
and  you  have  been  out  in  the  world,  gather 
ing  it," 

"And  now,"  said  Gordon,  smiling,  and 
putting  his  arm  around  the  other  boy's  shoul 
ders,  "  we  are  going  to  make  news  ourselves." 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  35 

"  There  is  one  thing  I  want  to  say  to  you 
before  you  turn  in,"  said  Stedman.  "Before 
you  suggest  all  these  improvements  on  Olly- 
pybus,  you  must  remember  that  he  has  ruled 
absolutely  here  for  twenty  years,  and  that  he 
does  not  think  much  of  consuls.  He  has  only 
seen  your  predecessor  and  yourself.  He 
likes  you  because  you  appeared  with  such 
dignity,  and  because  of  the  presents;  but 
if  I  were  you,  I  wouldn't  suggest  these 
improvements  as  coming  from  yourself." 

"I  don't  understand,"  said  Gordon;  "who 
could  they  come  from?" 

"Well,"  said  Stedman,  "if  you  will  allow 
me  to  advise,  —  and  you  see  I  know  these 
people  pretty  well,  —  I  would  have  all  these 
suggestions  come  from  the  President  direct." 

"  The  President !  "  exclaimed  Gordon ;  "  but 
how  ?  what  does  the  President  know  or  care 
about  Opeki?  and  it  would  take  so  long  — 
oh,  I  see,  the  cable.  Is  that  what  you  have 
been  doing?"  he  asked. 

"Well,  only  once,  "said  Stedman,  guiltily; 
"  that  was  when  he  wanted  to  turn  me  out  of 
the  consul's  office,  and  I  had  a  cable  that  very 
afternoon,  from  the  President,  ordering  me  to 
stay  where  I  was.  Ollypybus  doesn't  under- 


36  TEE  REPORTER    WHO 

stand  the  cable,  of  course,  but  he  knows  that 
it  sends  messages ;  and  sometimes  I  pretend 
to  send  messages  for  him  to  the  President; 
but  he  began  asking  me  to  tell  the  President 
to  come  and  pay  him  a  visit,  and  I  had  to 
stop  it." 

"I'm  glad  you  told  me,"  said  Gordon. 
"The  President  shall  begin  to  cable  to 
morrow.  He  will  need  an  extra  appropria 
tion  from  Congress  to  pay  for  his  private 
cablegrams  alone." 

"  And  there's  another  thing,"  said  Stedman. 
"In  all  your  plans,  you've  arranged  for  the 
people's  improvement, but  not  for  their  amuse 
ment;  and  they  are  a  peaceful,  jolly,  simple 
sort  of  people,  and  we  must  please  them." 

"Have  they  no  games  or  amusements  of 
their  own  ?  "  asked  Gordon. 

"Well,  not  what  we  would  call  games." 
"Very  well,  then,  I'll  teach  them  base 
ball.  Foot-ball  would  be  too  warm.  But 
that  plaza  in  front  of  the  King's  bungalow, 
where  his  palace  is  going  to  be,  is  just  the 
place  for  a  diamond.  On  the  whole,  though, " 
added  the  consul,  after  a  moment's  reflection, 
"you'd  better  attend  to  that  yourself.  I 
don't  think  it  becomes  my  dignity  as  Ameri- 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  37 

can  consul,  to  take  off  my  coat  and  give  les 
sons  to  young  Opekians  in  sliding  to  bases ; 
do  you?  No;  I  think  you'd  better  do  that. 
The  Bradleys  will  help  you,  and  you  had 
better  begin  to-morrow.  You  have  been  want 
ing  to  know  what  a  secretary  of  legation's 
duties  are,  and  now  you  know.  It's  to  or 
ganize  base-ball  nines.  And  after  you  get 
yours  ready,"  he  added,  as  he  turned  into  his 
room  for  the  night,  "I'll  train  one  that  will 
sweep  yours  off  the  face  of  the  island.  For 
this  American  consul  can  pitch  three  curves." 

The  best-laid  plans  of  men  go  far  astray, 
sometimes,  and  the  great  and  beautiful  city 
that  was  to  rise  on  the  coast  of  Opeki  was 
not  built  in  a  day.  Nor  was  it  ever  built. 
For  before  the  Bradleys  could  mark  out  the 
foul-lines  for  the  base-ball  field  on  the  plaza, 
or  teach  their  standing  army  the  goose  step, 
or  lay  bamboo  pipes  for  the  water-mains,  or 
clear  away  the  cactus  for  the  extension  of  the 
King's  palace,  the  Hillmen  paid  Opeki  their 
quarterly  visit. 

Albert  had  called  on  the  King  the  next 
morning,  with  Stedman  as  his  interpreter,  as 
he  had  said  he  would,  and  with  maps  and 
sketches,  had  shown  his  Majesty  what  he 


38  THE  EEPOETEB    WHO 

proposed  to  do  towards  improving  Opeki  and 
ennobling  her  king,  and  when  the  King  saw 
Albert's  free-hand  sketches  of  wharves  with 
tall  ships  lying  at  anchor,  and  rows  of  Ope- 
kian  warriors  with  the  Bradleys  at  their 
head,  and  the  design  for  his  new  palace,  and 
a  royal  sedan  chair,  he  believed  that  these 
things  were  already  his,  and  not  still  only  on 
paper,  and  he  appointed  Albert  his  Prime 
Minister  of  War,  Stedman  his  Minister  of 
Home  Affairs,  and  selected  two  of  his  wisest 
and  oldest  subjects  to  serve  them  as  joint  ad 
visers.  His  enthusiasm  was  even  greater 
than  Gordon's,  because  he  did  not  appreciate 
the  difficulties.  He  thought  Gordon  a  semi- 
god,  a  worker  of  miracles,  and  urged  the 
putting  up  of  a  monument  to  him  at  once  in 
the  public  plaza,  to  which  Albert  objected, 
on  the  ground  that  it  would  be  too  suggestive 
of  an  idol;  and  to  which  Stedman  also  ob 
jected,  but  for  the  less  unselfish  reason  that  it 
would  "be  in  the  way  of  the  pitcher's  box." 

They  were  feverishly  discussing  all  these 
great  changes,  and  Stedman  was  translating  as 
rapidly  as  he  could  translate,  the  speeches  of 
four  different  men,  —  for  the  two  counsellors 
had  been  called  in,  all  of  whom  wanted  to 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  39 

speak  at  once,  —  when  there  came  from  out 
side,  a  great  shout,  and  the  screams  of  women, 
and  the  clashing  of  iron,  and  the  pattering 
footsteps  of  men  running. 

As  they  looked  at  one  another  in  startled 
surprise,  a  native  ran  into  the  room,  followed 
by  Bradley,  Jr.,  and  threw  himself  down 
before  the  King.  While  he  talked,  beating 
his  hands  and  bowing  before  Ollypybus, 
Bradley,  Jr.,  pulled  his  forelock  to  the  con 
sul,  and  told  how  this  man  lived  on  the  far 
outskirts  of  the  village;  how  he  had  been 
captured  while  out  hunting,  by  a  number  of 
the  Hillmen ;  and  how  he  had  escaped  to  tell 
the  people  that  their  old  enemies  were  on 
the  war  path  again,  and  rapidly  approaching 
the  village. 

Outside,  the  women  were  gathering  in  the 
plaza,  with  the  children  about  them,  and  the 
men  were  running  from  hut  to  hut,  warning 
their  fellows,  and  arming  themselves  with 
spears  and  swords,  and  the  native  bows  and 
arrows. 

"They  might  have  waited  until  we  had 
that  army  trained,"  said  Gordon,  in  a  tone  of 
the  keenest  displeasure.  "Tell  me,  quick, 
what  do  they  generally  do  when  they  come  ?  " 


40  THE  REPORTER    WHO 

"Steal  all  the  cattle  and  goats,  and  a 
woman  or  two,  and  set  fire  to  the  huts  in  the 
outskirts,"  replied  Stedman. 

"Well,  we  must  stop  them,"  said  Gordon, 
jumping  up.  "  We  must  take  out  a  flag  of 
truce  and  treat  with  them.  They  must  be 
kept  off  until  I  have  my  army  in  working 
order.  It  is  most  inconvenient.  If  they  had 
only  waited  two  months,  now,  or  six  weeks 
even,  we  could  have  done  something;  but 
now  we  must  make  peace.  Tell  the  King 
we  are  going  out  to  fix  things  with  them, 
and  tell  him  to  keep  off  his  warriors  until  he 
learns  whether  we  succeed  or  fail. 

"  But,  Gordon !  "  gasped  Stedman.  "  Albert ! 
You  don't  understand.  Why,  man,  this  isn't 
a  street  fight  or  a  cane  rush.  They'll  stick 
you  full  of  spears,  dance  on  your  body,  and 
eat  you,  maybe.  A  flag  of  truce! — 'you're 
talking  nonsense.  What  do  they  know  of  a 
flag  of  truce?" 

"You're  talking  nonsense,  too,"  said 
Albert,  "and  you're  talking  to  your  superior 
officer.  If  you  are  not  with  me  in  this,  go 
back  to  your  cable,  and  tell  the  man  in  Oc- 
tavia  that  it's  a  warm  day,  and  that  the 
sun  is  shining;  but  if  you've  any  spirit  in 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  41 

you,  —  and  I  think  you  have,  —  run  to  the 
office  and  get  my  Winchester  rifles,  and  the 
two  shot-guns,  and  my  revolvers,  and  my 
uniform,  and  a  lot  of  brass  things  for  presents, 
and  run  all  the  way  there  and  back.  And 
make  time.  Play  you're  riding  a  bicycle  at 
the  Agricultural  Fair." 

Stedman  did  not  hear  this  last ;  for  he  was 
already  off  and  away,  pushing  through  the 
crowd,  and  calling  on  Bradley,  Sr.,  to  follow 
him.  Bradley,  Jr.,  looked  at  Gordon  with 
eyes  that  snapped  like  a  dog  that  is  waiting 
for  his  master  to  throw  a  stone. 

"I  can  fire  a  Winchester,  sir,"  he  said, 
"Old  Tom  can't.  He's  no  good  at  long 
range  'cept  with  a  big  gun,  sir.  Don't  give 
him  the  Winchester.  Give  it  to  me,  please, 
sir." 

Albert  met  Stedman  in  the  plaza,  and 
pulled  off  his  blazer,  and  put  on  Captain 
Travis 's — now  his  —  uniform  coat,  and  his 
white  pith  helmet. 

"Now,  Jack,"  he  said,  "get  up  there  and 
tell  these  people  that  we  are  going  out  to 
make  peace  with  these  Hillmen,  or  bring 
them  back  prisoners  of  war.  Tell  them  we 
are  the  preservers  of  their  homes  and  wives 


42  THE  REPORTER   WHO 

and  children;  and  you,  Bradley,  take  these 
presents,  and  young  Bradley,  keep  close  to 
me,  and  carry  this  rifle." 

Stedman's  speech  was  hot  and  wild  enough 
to  suit  a  critical  and  feverish  audience  before 
a  barricade  in  Paris.  And  when  he  was 
through,  Gordon  and  Bradley  punctuated 
his  oration  by  firing  off  the  two  Winchester 
rifles  in  the  air,  at  which  the  people  jumped 
and  fell  on  their  knees,  and  prayed  to  their 
several  gods.  The  fighting  men  of  the  village 
followed  the  four  white  men  to  the  outskirts, 
and  took  up  their  stand  there  as  Stedman  told 
them  to,  and  the  four  walked  on  over  the 
roughly  hewn  road,  to  meet  the  enemy. 

Gordon  walked  with  Bradley,  Jr.,  in  ad 
vance.  Stedman  and  old  Tom  Bradley 
followed  close  behind,  with  the  two  shot 
guns,  and  the  presents  in  a  basket. 

"  Are  these  Hillmen  used  to  guns  ?  "  asked 
Gordon.  Stedman  said  no,  they  were  not. 

"This  shot-gun  of  mine  is  the  only  one 
on  the  island,"  he  explained,  "and  we  never 
came  near  enough  them,  before,  to  do  anything 
with  it.  It  only  carries  a  hundred  yards.  The 
Opekians  never  make  any  show  of  resistance. 
They  are  quite  content  if  the  Hillmen  satisfy 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  43 

themselves  with  the  outlying  huts,  as  long 
as  they  leave  them  and  the  town  alone;  so 
they  seldom  come  to  close  quarters." 

The  four  men  walked  on  for  a  quarter  of 
an  hour  or  so,  in  silence,  peering  eagerly  on 
every  side ;  but  it  was  not  until  they  had  left 
the  woods  and  marched  out  into  the  level 
stretch  of  grassy  country,  that  they  came 
upon  the  enemy.  The  Hillmen  were  about 
forty  in  number,  and  were  as  savage  and  ugly- 
looking  giants  as  any  in  a  picture  book. 
They  had  captured  a  dozen  cows  and  goats, 
and  were  driving  them  on  before  them,  as 
they  advanced  further  upon  the  village. 
When  they  saw  the  four  men,  they  gave  a 
mixed  chorus  of  cries  and  yells,  and  some  of 
them  stopped,  and  others  ran  forward,  shak 
ing  their  spears,  and  shooting  their  broad 
arrows  into  the  ground  before  them.  A  tall, 
gray-bearded,  muscular  old  man,  with  a  skirt 
of  feathers  about  him,  and  necklaces  of  bones 
and  animals'  claws  around  his  bare  chest, 
ran  in  front  of  them,  and  seemed  to  be  trying 
to  make  them  approach  more  slowly. 

"Is  that  Messenwah?"  asked  Gordon. 

"Yes,"  said  Stedman;  "he  is  trying  to 
keep  them  back.  I  don't  believe  he  ever 
saw  a  white  man  before." 


44  THE  REPORTER    WHO 

"  Stedman,"  said  Albert,  speaking  quickly, 
"give  your  gun  to  Bradley,  and  go  forward 
with  your  arms  in  the  air,  and  waving  your 
handkerchief,  and  tell  them  in  their  language 
that  the  King  is  coming.  If  they  go  at  you, 
Bradley  and  I  will  kill  a  goat  or  two,  to 
show  them  what  we  can  do  with  the  rifles ; 
and  if  that  don't  stop  them,  we  will  shoot  at 
their  legs;  and  if  that  don't  stop  them  — I 
guess  you'd  better  come  back,  and  we'll  all 
run." 

Stedman  looked  at  Albert,  and  Albert 
looked  at  Stedman,  and  neither  of  them 
winced  or  flinched. 

"Is  this  another  of  my  secretary's  duties?" 
asked  the  younger  boy. 

"Yes,  "said  the  consul;  "but  a  resignation 
is  always  in  order.  You  needn't  go  if  you 
don't  like  it.  You  see,  you  know  the  lan 
guage  and  I  don't,  but  I  know  how  to  shoot, 
and  you  don't." 

"That's  perfectly  satisfactory,"  said  Sted 
man,  handing  his  gun  to  old  Bradley.  "I 
only  wanted  to  know  why  I  was  to  be  sacri 
ficed,  instead  of  one  of  the  Bradleys.  It's 
because  I  know  the  language.  Bradley,  Sr., 
you  see  the  evil  results  of  a  higher  education. 


'About  time  to  begin  on  the  goats!" 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  45 

Wish  me  luck,  please,"  he  said,  "and  for 
goodness'  sake,"  he  added  impressively, 
"don't  waste  much  time  shooting  goats." 

The  Hillmen  had  stopped  about  two  hun 
dred  yards  off,  and  were  drawn  up  in  two 
lines,  shouting,  and  dancing,  and  hurling 
taunting  remarks  at  their  few  adversaries. 
The  stolen  cattle  were  Lunched  together  back 
of  the  King.  As  Stedman  walked  steadily 
forward  with  his  handkerchief  fluttering,  and 
howling  out  something  in  their  own  tongue, 
they  stopped  and  listened.  As  he  advanced, 
his  three  companions  followed  him  at  about 
fifty  yards  in  the  rear.  He  was  one  hundred 
and  fifty  yards  from  the  Hillmen,  before  they 
made  out  what  he  said,  and  then  one  of  the 
young  braves,  resenting  it  as  an  insult  to  his 
chief,  shot  an  arrow  at  him.  Stedman  dodged 
the  arrow,  and  stood  his  ground  without  even 
taking  a  step  backwards,  only  turning  slightly 
to  put  his  hands  to  his  mouth,  and  to  shout 
something  which  sounded  to  his  companions 
like,  "  About  time  to  begin  on  the  goats. "  But 
the  instant  the  young  man  had  fired,  King 
Messenwah  swung  his  club  and  knocked  him 
down,  and  none  of  the  others  moved.  Then 
Messenwah  advanced  before  his  men  to  meet 


46  TEE  REPORTER    WHO 

Stedman,  and  on  Stedman's  opening  and 
shutting  his  hands  to  show  that  he  was  un 
armed,  the  King  threw  down  his  club  and 
spears,  and  came  forward  as  empty-handed  as 
himself. 

"Ah,"  gasped  Bradley,  Jr.,  with  his  finger 
trembling  on  his  lever,  "  let  me  take  a  shot 
at  him  now."  Gordon  struck  the  man's  gun 
up,  and  walked  forward  in  all  the  glory 
of  his  gold  and  blue  uniform;  for  both  he 
and  Stedman  saw  now  that  Messenwah  was 
more  impressed  by  their  appearance,  and  in 
the  fact  that  they  were  white  men,  than  with 
any  threats  of  immediate  war.  So  when  he 
saluted  Gordon  haughtily,  that  young  man 
gave  him  a  haughty  nod  in  return,  and  bade 
Stedman  tell  the  King  that  he  would  permit 
him  to  sit  down.  The  King  did  not  quite 
appear  to  like  this,  but  he  sat  down,  never 
theless,  and  nodded  his  head  gravely. 

"Now  tell  him,"  said  Gordon,  "that  I 
come  from  the  ruler  of  the  greatest  nation  on 
earth,  and  that  I  recognize  Ollypybus  as  the 
only  King  of  this  island,  and  that  I  come  to 
this  little  three-penny  King  with  either  peace 
and  presents,  or  bullets  and  war." 

"Have   I   got   to   tell    him    he's   a   little 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  47 

three-penny  King?"  said  Stedman,  plain 
tively. 

"No;  you  needn't  give  a  literal  transla 
tion;  it  can  be  as  free  as  you  please." 

"Thanks,"  said  the  secretary,  humbly. 

"And  tell  him,"  continued  Gordon,  "that 
we  will  give  presents  to  him  and  his  warriors 
if  he  keeps  away  from  Ollypybus,  and  agrees 
to  keep  away  always.  If  he  won't  do  that, 
try  to  get  him  to  agree  to  stay  away  for 
three  months  at  least,  and  by  that  time  we 
can  get  word  to  San  Francisco,  and  have  a 
dozen  muskets  over  here  in  two  months ;  and 
when  our  time  of  probation  is  up,  and  he  and 
his  merry  men  come  dancing  down  the  hill 
side,  we  will  blow  them  up  as  high  as  his 
mountains.  But  you  needn't  tell  him  that, 
either.  And  if  he  is  proud  and  haughty, 
and  would  rather  fight,  ask  him  to  restrain 
himself  until  we  show  what  we  can  do  with 
our  weapons  at  two  hundred  yards." 

Stedman  seated  himself  in  the  long  grass 
in  front  of  the  King,  and  with  many  revolv 
ing  gestures  of  his  arms,  and  much  pointing 
at  Gordon,  and  profound  nods  and  bows, 
retold  what  Gordon  had  dictated.  When  he 
had  finished,  the  King  looked  at  the  bundle 


48  THE  REPORTER    WHO 

of  presents,  and  at  the  guns,  of  which  Sted- 
man  had  given  a  very  wonderful  account, 
but  answered  nothing. 

"I  guess,"  said  Stedman,  with  a  sigh, 
"that  we  will  have  to  give  him  a  little 
practical  demonstration  to  help  matters.  I 
am  sorry,  but  I  think  one  of  those  goats  has 
got  to  die.  It's  like  vivisection.  The  lower 
order  of  animals  have  to  suffer  for  the  good 
of  the  higher." 

"Oh,"  said  Bradley,  Jr.,  cheerfully,  "I'd 
just  as  soon  shoot  one  of  those  niggers  as 
one  of  the  goats." 

So  Stedman  bade  the  King  tell  his  men 
to  drive  a  goat  towards  them,  and  the  King 
did  so,  and  one  of  the  men  struck  one  of  the 
goats  with  his  spear,  and  it  ran  clumsily 
across  the  plain. 

"Take  your  time,  Bradley,"  said  Gordon. 
"  Aim  low,  and  if  you  hit  it,  you  can  have  it 
for  supper." 

"And  if  you  miss  it,"  said  Stedman, 
gloomily,  "  Messenwah  may  have  us  for  sup 
per." 

The  Hillmen  had  seated  themselves  a 
hundred  yards  off,  while  the  leaders  were 
debating,  and  they  now  rose  curiously  and 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  49 

watched  Bradley,  as  he  sank  upon  one  knee, 
and  covered  the  goat  with  his  rifle.  When 
it  was  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  yards  off, 
he  fired,  and  the  goat  fell  over  dead. 

And  then  all  the  Hillmen,  with  the  King 
himself,  broke  away  on  a  run,  towards  the 
dead  animal,  with  much  shouting.  The  King 
came  back  alone,  leaving  his  people  standing 
about  and  examining  the  goat.  He  was 
much  excited,  and  talked  and  gesticulated 
violently. 

"He  says — "  said  Stedman ;   "He  says — >" 

"What?  yes;  go  on." 

"  He  says  —  goodness  me !  —  what  do  you 
think  he  says  ?  " 

"Well,  what  does  he  say?"  cried  Gordon, 
in  a  great  state  of  nerves.  "Don't  keep  it 
all  to  yourself." 

"He  says,"  said  Stedman,  "that  we  are 
deceived.  That  he  is  no  longer  King  of  the 
Island  of  Opeki,  that  he  is  in  great  fear  of 
us,  and  that  he  has  got  himself  into  no  end 
of  trouble.  He  says  he  sees  that  we  are  in 
deed  mighty  men,  that  to  us  he  is  as  helpless 
as  the  wild  boar  before  the  javelin  of  the 
hunter." 

"  Well,  he's  right,"  said  Gordon.    "  Go  on." 


50  THE  REPORTER    WHO 

"  But  that  which  we  ask  is  no  longer  his 
to  give.  He  has  sold  his  kingship  and  his 
right  to  this  island  to  another  king,  who 
came  to  him  two  days  ago  in  a  great  canoe, 
and  who  made  noises  as  we  do, — with  guns,  I 
suppose  he  means, — and  to  whom  he  sold  the 
island  for  a  watch  that  he  has  in  a  bag 
around  his  neck.  And  that  he  signed  a 
paper,  and  made  marks  on  a  piece  of  bark,  to 
show  that  he  gave  up  the  island  freely  and 
forever." 

"What  does  he  mean?"  said  Gordon. 
"  How  can  he  give  up  the  island.  Ollypybus 
is  the  king  of  half  of  it,  anyway,  and  he 
knows  it." 

"That's  just  it,"  said  Stedman.  "That's 
what  frightens  him.  He  said  he  didn't 
care  about  Ollypybus,  and  didn't  count  him 
in  when  he  made  the  treaty,  because  he  is 
such  a  peaceful  chap  that  he  knew  he  could 
thrash  him  into  doing  anything  he  wanted 
him  to  do.  And  now  that  you  have  turned 
up  and  taken  Ollypybus 's  part,  he  wishes  he 
hadn't  sold  the  island,  and  wishes  to  know 
if  you  are  angry." 

"Angry?  of  course  I'm  angry,"  said  Gor 
don,  glaring  as  grimly  at  the  frightened 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  51 

monarch  as  he  thought  was  safe.  "Who 
wouldn't  be  angry  ?  Who  do  you  think  these 
people  were  who  made  a  fool  of  him,  Sted- 
man?  Ask  him  to  let  us  see  this  watch." 

Stedman  did  so,  and  the  King  fumbled 
among  his  necklaces  until  he  had  brought 
out  a  leather  bag  tied  round  his  neck  with  a 
cord,  and  containing  a  plain  stem-winding 
silver  watch  marked  on  the  inside  "Munich." 

"That  doesn't  tell  anything,"  said  Gor 
don.  "  But  it's  plain  enough.  Some  foreign 
ship  of  war  has  settled  on  this  place  as  a  coal 
ing-station,  or  has  annexed  it  for  coloniza 
tion,  and  they've  sent  a  boat  ashore,  and 
they've  made  a  treaty  with  this  old  chap,  and 
forced  him  to  sell  his  birthright  for  a  mess 
of  porridge.  Now,  that's  just  like  those 
monarchical  pirates;  imposing  upon  a  poor 
old  black." 

Old  Bradley  looked  at  him  impudently. 

"Not  at  all,"  said  Gordon;  "it's  quite 
different  with  us ;  we  don't  want  to  rob  him 
or  Ollypybus,  or  to  annex  their  land.  All 
we  want  to  do  is  to  improve  it,  and  have  the 
fun  of  running  it  for  them  and  meddling  in 
their  affairs  of  state.  Well,  Stedman,"  he 
said,  "what  shall  we  do?" 


52  THE  REPORTER    WHO 

Stedman  said  that  the  best  and  only  thing 
to  do  was  to  threaten  to  take  the  watch  away 
from  Messenwah,  but  to  give  him  a  revolver 
instead,  which  would  make  a  friend  of  him 
for  life,  and  to  keep  him  supplied  with  car 
tridges  only  as  long  as  he  behaved  himself, 
and  then  to  make  him  understand  that    as 
Ollypybus  had  not  given  his  consent  to  the 
loss  of  the  island,   Messenwah's  agreement, 
or  treaty,  or  whatever  it  was,  did  not  stand,' 
and  that  he  had  better  come  down  the  next 
day,  early  in  the  morning,  and  join  in  a  gen 
eral  consultation.     This  was  done,  and  Mes 
senwah  agreed  willingly  to  their  proposition, 
and  was  given  his  revolver  and  shown  how  to 
shoot  it,  while  the  other  presents  were  dis 
tributed  among  the  other  men,  who  were  as 
happy  over  them  as  girls  with  a  full  dance-card. 
"And   now,    to-morrow,"    said    Stedman, 
"  understand,  you  are  all  to  come  down  un 
armed,  and  sign  a  treaty  with  great  Ollypy 
bus,  in  which  he  will  agree  to  keep  to  one  half 
of  the  island,  if  you  keep  to  yours,  and  there 
must  be  no   more   wars    or  goat  stealing,  or 
this  gentleman  on  my  right  and  I  will  come 
up  and  put  holes  in  you  just  as  the  gentle 
man  on  the  left  did  with  the  goat," 


MADE  HIMSELF  XING.  53 

Messenwah  and  his  warriors  promised  to 
come  early,  and  saluted  reverently  as  Gordon 
and  his  three  companions  walked  up  together 
very  proudly  and  stiffly. 

"Do  you  know  how  I  feel?"  said  Gordon. 

"How?"  asked  Stedman. 

"  I  feel  as  I  used  to  do  in  the  city,  when 
the  boys  in  the  street  were  throwing  snow 
balls,  and  I  had  to  go  by  with  a  high  hat  on 
my  head  and  pretend  not  to  know  they  were 
behind  me.  I  always  felt  a  cold  chill  down 
my  spinal  column,  and  I  could  feel  that 
snow-ball,  whether  it  came  or  not,  right  in 
the  small  of  my  back.  And  I  can  feel  one  of 
those  men  pulling  his  bow,  now,  and  the 
arrow  sticking  out  of  my  right  shoulder." 

"  Oh,  no,  you  can't,"  said  Stedman.  "  They 
are  too  afraid  of  those  rifles.  But  I  do  feel 
sorry  for  any  of  those  warriors  whom  old  man 
Massenwah  doesn't  like,  now  that  he  has  that 
revolver.  He  isn't  the  sort  to  practise  on 
goats." 

There  was  great  rejoicing  when  Stedman 
and  Gordon  told  their  story  to  the  King,  and 
the  people  learned  they  were  not  to  have  their 
huts  burned  and  their  cattle  stolen.  The 
armed  Opekians  formed  a  guard  around  the 


54  THE  REPORTER    WHO 

ambassadors  and  escorted  them  to  their  homes 
with  cheers  and  shouts,  and  the  women  ran  at 
their  side  and  tried  to  kiss  Gordon's  hand. 

"I'm  sorry  I  can't  speak  the  language, 
Stedman,"  said  Gordon,  "or  I  would  tell 
them  what  a  brave  man  you  are.  You  are 
too  modest  to  do  it  yourself,  even  if  I  dictated 
something  for  you  to  say.  As  for  me,"  he 
said,  pulling  off  his  uniform,  "I  am  thor 
oughly  disgusted  and  disappointed.  It 
never  occurred  to  me  until  it  was  all  over, 
that  this  was  my  chance  to  be  a  war  corre 
spondent.  It  wouldn't  have  been  much  of  a 
war,  but  then  I  would  have  been  the  only 
one  on  the  spot,  and  that  counts  for  a  great 
deal.  Still,  my  time  may  come." 

4 ;  We  have  a  great  deal  on  hand  for  to 
morrow,"  said  Gordon  that  evening,  "and 
we  had  better  turn  in  early." 

And  so  the  people  were  still  singing  and 
rejoicing  down  in  the  village,  when  the  two 
conspirators  for  the  peace  of  the  country 
went  to  sleep  for  the  night.  It  seemed  to 
Gordon  as  though  he  had  hardly  turned  his 
pillow  twice  to  get  the  coolest  side,  when 
some  one  touched  him,  and  he  saw,  by  the 
light  of  the  dozen  glowworms  in  the  tumbler 
by  his  bedside,  a  tall  figure  at  its  foot- 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  55 

"It's  me  — Bradley,"  said  the  figure. 

"Yes,"  said  Gordon,  with  the  haste  of  a 
man  to  show  that  sleep  has  no  hold  on  him; 
"exactly;  what  is  it?" 

"There  is  a  ship  of  war  in  the  harbor," 
said  Bradley,  in  a  whisper.  "  I  heard  her  an 
chor  chains  rattle  when  she  came  to,  and  that 
woke  me.  I  could  hear  that  if  I  were  dead. 
And  then  I  made  sure  by  her  lights;  she's  a 
great  boat,  sir,  and  I  can  know  she's  a  ship  of 
war  by  the  challenging,  when  they  change  the 
watch.  I  thought  you'd  like  to  know,  sir." 

Gordon  sat  up  and  clutched  his  knees  with 
his  hands.  "Yes,  of  course,"  he  said;  "you 
are  quite  right.  Still,  I  don't  see  what  there 
is  to  do." 

He  did  not  wish  to  show  too  much  youth 
ful  interest,  but  though  fresh  from  civiliza 
tion,  he  had  learnt  how  far  from  it  he  was, 
and  he  was  curious  to  see  this  sign  of  it  that 
had  come  so  much  more  quickly  than  he  had 
anticipated. 

"Wake  Mr.  Stedman,  will  you?"  said  he, 
"and  we  will  go  and  take  a  look  at  her." 

"You  can  see  nothing  but  the  lights," 
said  Bradley,  as  he  left  the  room;  "it's  a 
black  night,  sir." 


56  THE  EEPOETER    WHO 

Stedman  was  not  new  from  the  sight  of 
men  and  ships  of  war,  and  came  in  half 
dressed  and  eager. 

"  Do  you  suppose  it's  the  big  canoe  Mes 
senwah  spoke  of?"  he  said. 

"I  thought  of  that,"  said  Gordon. 

The  three  men  fumbled  their  way  down 
the  road  to  the  plaza,  and  saw,  as  soon  as 
they  turned  into  it,  the  great  outlines  and 
the  brilliant  lights  of  an  immense  vessel, 
still  more  immense  in  the  darkness,  and 
glowing  like  a  strange  monster  of  the  sea, 
with  just  a  suggestion  here  and  there,  where 
the  lights  spread,  of  her  cabins  and  bridges. 
As  they  stood  on  the  shore,  shivering  in  the 
cool  night  wind,  they  heard  the  bells  strike 
over  the  water. 

"It's  two  o'clock,"  said  Bradley,  count 
ing. 

"  Well,  we  can  do  nothing,  and  they  can 
not  mean  to  do  much  to-night,"  Albert  said. 
"We  had  better  get  some  more  sleep,  and, 
Bradley,  you  keep  watch  and  tell  us  as  soon 
as  day  breaks." 

"Aye,  aye,  sir,"  said  the  sailor. 

"If  that's  the  man-of-war  that  made  the 
treaty  with  Messenwah,  and  Messenwah 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  57 

turns  up  to-morrow,  it  looks  as  if  our  day 
would  be  pretty  well  filled  up,"  said  Albert, 
as  they  felt  their  way  back  to  the  darkness. 

"What  do  you  intend  to  do?"  asked  his 
secretary,  with  a  voice  of  some  concern. 

"I  don't  know,"  Albert  answered  gravely, 
from  the  blackness  of  the  night.  "  It  looks  as 
if  we  were  getting  ahead  just  a  little  too  fast ; 
doesn't  it  ?  Well, "  he  added,  as  they  reached 
the  house,  "  let's  try  to  keep  in  step  with  the 
procession,  even  if  we  can't  be  drum-majors 
and  walk  in  front  of  it."  And  with  this 
cheering  tone  of  confidence  in  their  ears,  the 
two  diplomats  went  soundly  asleep  again. 

The  light  of  the  rising  sun  filled  the  room, 
and  the  parrots  were  chattering  outside,  when 
Bradley  woke  him  again. 

"They  are  sending  a  boat  ashore,  sir,"  he 
said  excitedly,  and  filled  with  the  importance 
of  the  occasion.  "She's  a  German  man-of- 
war,  and  one  of  the  new  model.  A  beautiful 
boat,  sir ;  for  her  lines  were  laid  in  Glasgow, 
and  I  can  tell  that,  no  matter  what  flag  she 
flies.  You  had  best  be  moving  to  meet 
them:  the  village  isn't  awake  yet." 

Albert  took  a  cold  bath  and  dressed  lei 
surely;  then  he  made  Bradley,  Jr.,  who  had 


58  THE  EEPOETEE    WHO 

slept  through  it  all,  get  up  breakfast,  and 
the  two  young  men  ate  it  and  drank  their 
coffee  comfortably  and  with  an  air  of  confi 
dence  that  deceived  their  servants,  if  it  did 
not  deceive  themselves.  But  when  they 
came  down  the  path,  smoking  and  swinging 
their  sticks,  and  turned  into  the  plaza,  their 
composure  left  them  like  a  mask,  and  they 
stopped  where  they  stood.  The  plaza  was 
enclosed  by  the  natives  gathered  in  whisper 
ing  groups,  and  depressed  by  fear  and  won 
der.  On  one  side  were  crowded  all  the 
Messenwah  warriors,  unarmed,  and  as  silent 
and  disturbed  as  the  Opekians.  In  the  mid 
dle  of  the  plaza  some  twenty  sailors  were 
busily  rearing  and  bracing  a  tall  flag-staff 
that  they  had  shaped  from  a  royal  palm,  and 
they  did  this  as  unconcernedly  and  as  con 
temptuously,  and  with  as  much  indifference 
to  the  strange  groups  on  either  side  of  them, 
as  though  they  were  working  on  a  barren 
coast,  with  nothing  but  the  startled  sea-gulls 
about  them.  As  Albert  and  Stedman  came 
upon  the  scene,  the  flag-pole  was  in  place, 
and  the  halliards  hung  from  it  with  a  little 
bundle  of  bunting  at  the  end  of  one  of 
them. 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  59 

"We  must  find  the  King  at  once,"  said 
Gordon.  He  was  terribly  excited  and  angry. 
"It  is  easy  enough  to  see  what  this  means. 
They  are  going  through  the  form  of  annexing 
this  island  to  the  other  lands  of  the  German 
government.  They  are  robbing  old  Ollypybus 
of  what  is  his.  They  have  not  even  given 
him  a  silver  watch  for  it. ' ' 

The  King  was  in  his  bungalow,  facing  the 
plaza.  Messenwah  was  with  him,  and  an 
equal  number  of  each  of  their  councils.  The 
common  danger  had  made  them  lie  down 
together  in  peace;  but  they  gave  a  gasp  oi 
relief  as  Gordon  strode  into  the  room  with  no 
ceremony,  and  greeted  them  with  a  curt  wave 
of  the  hand. 

"Now  then,  Stedman,  be  quick,"  he  said. 
"Explain  to  them  what  this  means;  tell 
them  that  I  will  protect  them;  that  I  am 
anxious  to  see  that  Ollypybus  is  not  cheated; 
that  we  will  do  all  we  can  for  them." 

Outside,  on  the  shore,  a  second  boat's  crew 
had  landed  a  group  of  officers  and  a  file  of 
marines.  They  walked  in  all  the  dignity  of 
full  dress  across  the  plaza  to  the  flag-pole, 
and  formed  in  line  on  the  three  sides  of  it, 
with  the  marines  facing  the  sea.  The  officers, 


60  THE  REPORTER    WHO 

from  the  captain  with  a  prayer  book  in  his 
hand,  to  the  youngest  middy,  were  as  indif 
ferent  to  the  frightened  natives  about  them 
as  the  other  men  had  been.  The  natives, 
awed  and  afraid,  crouched  back  among  their 
huts,  the  marines  and  the  sailors  kept  their 
eyes  front,  and  the  German  captain  opened 
his  prayer  book.  The  debate  in  the  bunga 
low  was  over. 

"If  you  only  had  your  uniform,  sir,"  said 
Bradley,  Sr.,  miserably. 

''This  is  a  little  bit  too  serious  for  uni 
forms  and  bicycle  medals,"  said  Gordon. 
"And  these  men  are  used  to  gold  lace." 

He  pushed  his  way  through  the  natives, 
and  stepped  confidently  across  the  plaza. 
The  youngest  middy  saw  him  coming,  and 
nudged  the  one  next  him  with  his  elbow,  and 
he  nudged  the  next,  but  none  of  the  officers 
moved,  because  the  captain  had  begun  to  read. 

"One  minute,  please,"  called  Gordon. 

He  stepped  out  into  the  hollow  square 
formed  by  the  marines,  and  raised  his  helmet 
to  the  captain. 

"  Do  you  speak  English  or  French  ?  "  Gor 
don  said  in  French ;  "I  do  not  understand 
German." 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  61 

The  captain  lowered  the  book  in  his  hands 
and  gazed  reflectively  at  Gordon  through  his 
spectacles,  and  made  no  reply. 

"If  I  understand  this,"  said  the  younger 
man,  trying  to  be  very  impressive  and  polite, 
"  you  are  laying  claim  to  this  land,  in  behalf 
of  the  German  government." 

The  captain  continued  to  observe  him 
thoughtfully,  and  then  said,  "That  iss  so," 
and  then  asked,  "Who  are  you?" 

"I  represent  the  King  of  this  island, 
Ollypybus,  whose  people  you  see  around  you. 
I  also  represent  the  United  States  govern 
ment  that  does  not  tolerate  a  foreign  power 
near  her  coast,  since  the  days  of  President 
Monroe  and  before.  The  treaty  you  have 
made  with  Messenwah  is  an  absurdity.  There 
is  only  one  king  with  whom  to  treat,  and 

he  —  " 

The  captain  turned  to  one  of  his  officers 
and  said  something,  and  then,  after  giving 
another  curious  glance  at  Gordon,  raised  his 
book  and  continued  reading,  in  a  deep,  un 
ruffled  monotone.  The  officer  whispered  an 
order,  and  two  of  the  marines  stepped  out  of 
line,  and  dropping  the  muzzles  of  their 
muskets,  pushed  Gordon  back  out  of  the  en- 


62  TEE  REPORTER    WHO 

closure,  and  left  him  there  with  his  lips 
white,  and  trembling  all  over  with  indigna 
tion.  He  would  have  liked  to  have  rushed 
back  into  the  lines  and  broken  the  captain's 
spectacles  over  his  sun-tanned  nose  and 
cheeks,  but  he  was  quite  sure  this  would 
only  result  in  his  getting  shot,  or  in  his 
being  made  ridiculous  before  the  natives,  and 
that  was  almost  as  bad,  so  he  stood  still  for  a 
moment,  with  his  blood  choking  him,  and 
then  turned  and  walked  back  where  the  King 
and  Stedman  were  whispering  together.  Just 
as  he  turned,  one  of  the  men  pulled  the 
halliards,  the  ball  of  bunting  ran  up  into  the 
air,  bobbed,  twitched,  and  turned,  and  broke 
into  the  folds  of  the  German  flag.  At  the 
same  moment  the  marines  raised  their  mus 
kets  and  fired  a  volley,  and  the  officers  saluted 
and  the  sailors  cheered. 

"  Do  you  see  that  ?"  cried  Stedman,  catching 
Gordon's  humor,  to  Ollypybus;  "that  means 
that  you  are  no  longer  king,  that  strange 
people  are  coming  here  to  take  your  land, 
and  to  turn  your  people  into  servants,  and  to 
drive  you  back  into  the  mountains.  Are 
you  going  to  submit?  are  you  going  to  let 
that  flag  stay  where  it  is  ?  " 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  63 

Messenwah  and  Ollypybus  gazed  at  one 
another  with  fearful,  helpless  eyes.  "We 
are  afraid,"  Ollypybus  cried;  "we  do  not 
know  what  we  should  do." 

"What  do  they  say?"  asked  Gordon. 

"  They  say  they  do  not  know  what  to  do." 

"I  know  what  I'd  do,"  cried  Gordon. 
"If  I  were  not  an  American  consul,  I'd  pull 
down  their  old  flag,  and  put  a  hole  in  their 
boat  and  sink  her." 

"Well,  I'd  wait  until  they  get  under  way, 
before  you  do  either  of  those  things,"  said 
Stedman  soothingly.  "  That  captain  seems  to 
be  a  man  of  much  determination  of  character. " 

"But  I  will  pull  it  down,"  cried  Gordon. 
"  I  will  resign,  as  Travis  did.  I  am  no  longer 
consul.  You  can  be  consul  if  you  want  to. 
I  promote  you.  I  am  going  up  a  step  higher. 
I  mean  to  be  king.  Tell  those  two,"  he 
ran  on  excitedly,  "that  their  only  course 
and  only  hope  is  in  me ;  that  they  must  make 
me  ruler  of  the  island  until  this  thing  is 
over;  that  I  will  resign  again  as  soon  as  it  is 
settled,  but  that  some  one  must  act  at  once, 
and  if  they  are  afraid  to,  I  am  not,  only  they 
must  give  me  authority  to  act  for  them.  They 
must  abdicate  in  my  favor." 


64  THE  REPORTER    WHO 

"Are  you  in  earnest?"  gasped  Stedman. 

"Don't  I  talk  as  if  I  was?"  demanded 
Gordon,  wiping  the  perspiration  from  his 
forehead. 

"And  can  I  be  consul?"  said  Stedman, 
cheerfully. 

"  Of  course.  Tell  them  what  I  propose  to 
do." 

Stedman  turned  and  spoke  rapidly  to  the 
two  kings .  The  people  gathered  closer  to  hear. 

The  two  rival  monarchs  looked  at  one 
another  in  silence  for  a  moment,  and  then 
both  began  to  speak  at  once,  their  consulars 
interrupting  them  and  mumbling  their  gut 
tural  comments  with  anxious  earnestness.  It 
did  not  take  them  very  long  to  see  that  they 
were  all  of  one  mind,  and  then  they  both 
turned  to  Gordon  and  dropped  on  one  knee, 
and  placed  his  hands  on  their  foreheads,  and 
Stedman  raised  his  cap. 

"They  agree,"  he  explained,  for  it  was  but 
pantomime  to  Albert.  "  They  salute  you  as 
a  ruler;  they  are  calling  you  Tellaman, 
which  means  peacemaker.  The  Peacemaker, 
that  is  your  title.  I  hope  you  will  deserve 
it,  but  I  think  they  might  have  chosen  a 
more  appropriate  one." 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  65 

"Then  I'm  really  King?"  demanded  Al 
bert,  decidedly,  "  and  I  can  do  what  I  please  ? 
They  give  me  full  power.  Quick,  do  they  ?  " 

"Yes,  but  don't  do  it,"  begged  Stedman, 
"  and  just  remember  I  am  American  consul 
now,  and  that  is  a  much  superior  being  to  a 
crowned  monarch;  you  said  so  yourself." 

Albert  did  not  reply  to  this,  but  ran  across 
the  plaza  followed  by  the  two  Bradleys. 
The  boats  had  gone. 

"Hoist  that  flag  beside  the  brass  cannon," 
he  cried,  "  and  stand  ready  to  salute  it  when 
I  drop  this  one." 

Bradley,  Jr.,  grasped  the  halliards  of  the 
flag,  which  he  had  forgotten  to  raise  and 
salute  in  the  morning  in  all  the  excitement 
of  the  man-of-war's  arrival.  Bradley,  Sr., 
stood  by  the  brass  cannon,  blowing  gently 
on  his  lighted  fuse.  The  Peacemaker  took 
the  halliards  of  the  German  flag  in  his  two 
hands,  gave  a  quick,  sharp  tug,  and  down 
came  the  red,  white,  and  black  piece  of  bunt 
ing,  and  the  next  moment  young  Bradley 
sent  the  stars  and  stripes  up  in  their  place. 
As  it  rose,  Bradley's  brass  cannon  barked 
merrily  like  a  little  bull-dog,  and  the  Peace 
maker  cheered. 


66  THE  EEPOETER   WHO 

"Why  don't  you  cheer,  Stedman?"  he 
shouted.  "  Tell  those  people  to  cheer  for  all 
they  are  worth.  What  sort  of  an  American 
consul  are  you  ?  " 

Stedman  raised  his  arm  half-heartedly  to 
give  the  time,  and  opened  his  mouth ;  but  his 
arm  remained  fixed  and  his  mouth  open, 
while  his  eyes  stared  at  the  retreating  boat  of 
the  German  man-of-war.  In  the  stern  sheets 
of  this  boat,  the  stout  German  captain  was 
struggling  unsteadily  to  his  feet ;  he  raised 
his  arm  and  waved  it  to  some  one  on  the  great 
man-of-war,  as  though  giving  an  order.  The 
natives  looked  from  Stedman  to  the  boat,  and 
even  Gordon  stopped  in  his  cheering  and 
stood  motionless,  watching.  They  had  not 
very  long  to  wait.  There  was  a  puff  of  white 
smoke,  and  a  flash,  and  then  a  loud  report, 
and  across  the  water  came  a  great  black  ball 
skipping  lightly  through  and  over  the  waves, 
as  easily  as  a  flat  stone  thrown  by  a  boy.  It 
seemed  to  come  very  slowly.  At  least  it 
came  slowly  enough  for  every  one  to  see  that 
it  was  coming  directly  towards  the  brass  can 
non.  The  Bradleys  saw  this  certainly,  for 
they  ran  as  fast  as  they  could,  and  kept  on 
running.  The  ball  caught  the  cannon  under 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  67 

its  mouth,  and  tossed  it  in  the  air,  knocking 
the  flag-pole  into  a  dozen  pieces,  and  passing 
on  through  two  of  the  palm-covered  huts. 

"  Great  Heavens,  Gordon !  "  cried  Stedman ; 
"they  are  firing  on  us." 

But  Gordon's  face  was  radiant  and  wild. 

" Firing  on  us!"  he  cried.  " On  us !  Don't 
you  see?  Don't  you  understand?  What  do 
we  amount  to?  They  have  fired  on  the 
American  flag.  Don't  you  see  what  that 
means?  It  means  war.  A  great  interna 
tional  war.  And  I  am  a  war  correspondent 
at  last!  "  He  ran  up  to  Stedman  and  seized 
him  by  the  arm  so  tightly  that  it  hurt. 

"By  three  o'clock,"  he  said,  "they  will 
know  in  the  office  what  has  happened.  The 
country  will  know  it  to-morrow  when  the 
paper  is  on  the  street;  people  will  read  it  all 
over  the  world.  The  Emperor  will  hear  of 
it  at  breakfast;  the  President  will  cable  for 
further  particulars.  He  will  get  them.  It 
is  the  chance  of  a  lifetime,  and  we  are  on  the 
spot." 

Stedman  did  not  hear  this ;  he  was  watch 
ing  the  broadside  of  the  ship  to  see  another 
puff  of  white  smoke,  but  there  came  no  such 
sign-  The  two  row-boats  were  raised,  there 


68  THE  REPORTER    WHO 

was  a  cloud  of  black  smoke  from  the  funnel, 
a  creaking  of  chains  sounding  faintly  across 
the  water,  and  the  ship  started  at  half  speed 
and  moved  out  of  the  harbor.  The  Opekians 
and  the  Hillmen  fell  on  their  knees,  or  to 
dancing,  as  best  suited  their  sense  of  relief, 
but  Gordon  shook  his  head. 

"They  are  only  going  to  land  the  ma 
rines,"  he  said;  "perhaps  they  are  going  to 
the  spot  they  stopped  at  before,  or  to  take  up 
another  position  further  out  at  sea.  They 
will  land  men  and  then  shell  the  town,  and 
the  land  forces  will  march  here  and  co-operate 
with  the  vessel,  and  everybody  will  be  taken 
prisoner  or  killed.  We  have  the  centre  of 
the  stage,  and  we  are  making  history." 

"I'd  rather  read  it  than  make  it,"  said 
Stedman.  "You've  got  us  in  a  senseless, 
silly  position,  Gordon,  and  a  mighty  un 
pleasant  one.  And  for  no  reason  that  I  can 
see,  except  to  make  copy  for  your  paper." 

"  Tell  those  people  to  get  their  things  to 
gether,"  said  Gordon,  "and  march  back  out 
of  danger  into  the  woods.  Tell  Ollypybus  I 
am  going  to  fix  things  all  right;  I  don't 
know  just  how  yet,  but  I  will,  and  now  come 
after  me  as  quickly  as  you  can  to  the  cable 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  69 

office.     I've  got  to  tell  the  paper  all  about 
it." 

It  was  three  o'clock  before  the  "chap  at 
Octavia "  answered  Stedman's  signalling. 
Then  Stedman  delivered  Gordon's  message, 
and  immediately  shut  off  all  connection, 
before  the  Octavia  operator  could  question 
him.  Gordon  dictated  his  message  in  this 
way :  — 

"  Begin  with  the  date  line, '  Opeki,  June  22. ' 
"At  seven  o'clock  this  morning,  the  cap 
tain  and  officers  of  the  German  man-of-war 
Kaiser,  went  through  the  ceremony  of  annex 
ing  this  island  in  the  name  of  the  German 
Emperor,  basing  their  right  to  do  so  on  an 
agreement  made  with  a  leader  of  a  wandering 
tribe,  known  as  the  Hillmen.  King  Olly- 
pybus,  the  present  monarch  of  Opeki,  del 
egated  his  authority,  as  also  did  the  leader 
of  the  Hillmen,  to  King  Tallaman,  or  the 
Peacemaker,  who  tore  down  the  German  flag, 
and  raised  that  of  the  United  States  in  its 
place.  At  the  same  moment  the  flag  was 
saluted  by  the  battery.  This  salute,  being 
mistaken  for  an  attack  on  the  Kaiser,  was 
answered  by  that  vessel.  Her  first  shot  took 
immediate  effect,  completely  destroying  the 


70  THE  EEPORTEE    WHO 

entire  battery  of  the  Opekians,  cutting  down 
the  American  flag,  and  destroying  the  houses 
of  the  people  — 

"  There  was  only  one  brass  cannon  and  two 
huts,"  expostulated  Stedman. 

"Well,  that  was  the  whole  battery,  wasn't 
it  ?  "  asked  Gordon,  "  and  two  huts  is  plural. 
I  said  houses  of  the  people.  I  couldn't  say 
two  house  of  the  people.  Just  you  send  this 
as  you  get  it.  You  are  not  an  American 
consul  at  the  present  moment.  You  are  an 
under-paid  agent  of  a  cable  company,  and 
you  send  my  stuff  as  I  write  it.  The  Ameri 
can  residents  have  taken  refuge  in  the  con 
sulate  —  that's  us, "  explained  Gordon,  "  and 
the  English  residents  have  sought  refuge  in 
the  woods  —  that's  the  Bradleys.  King 
Tellaman  —  that's  me  —  declares  his  inten 
tion  of  fighting  against  the  annexation.  The 
forces  of  the  Opekians  are  under  the  com 
mand  of  Captain  Thomas  Bradley  —  I  guess  I 
might  as  well  made  him  a  colonel  —  of  Colonel 
Thomas  Bradley,  of  the  English  army. 

"The  American  consul  says  —  Now,  what 
do  you  say,  Stedman?  Hurry  up,  please," 
asked  Gordon,  "  and  say  something  good  and 
strong." 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  71 

"You  get  me  all  mixed  up,"  complained 
Stedman,  plaintively.  "Which  am  I  now, 
a  cable  operator  or  the  American  consul?  " 

"  Consul,  of  course.  Say  something  patri 
otic  and  about  your  determination  to  protect 
the  interests  of  your  government,  and  all 
that."  Gordon  bit  the  end  of  his  pencil 
impatiently,  and  waited. 

"I  won't  be  anything  of  the  sort,  Gordon," 
said  Stedman;  "you  are  getting  me  into  an 
awful  lot  of  trouble,  and  yourself  too.  I 
won't  say  a  word." 

"The  American  consul,"  read  Gordon,  as 
his  pencil  wriggled  across  the  paper,  "  refuses 
to  say  anything  for  publication  until  he  has 
communicated  with  the  authorities  at  Wash 
ington,  but  from  all  I  can  learn  he  sym 
pathizes  entirely  with  Tellaman.  Your 
correspondent  has  just  returned  from  an 
audience  with  King  Tellaman,  who  asks  him 
to  inform  the  American  people  that  the 
Monroe  doctrine  will  be  sustained  as  long  as 
he  rules  this  island.  I  guess  that's  enough 
to  begin  with,"  said  Gordon.  "Now  send 
that  off  quick,  and  then  get  away  from  the 
instrument  before  the  man  in  Octavia  begins 
to  ask  questions.  I  am  going  out  to  precipi 
tate  matters." 


72  THE  EEPOETER    WHO 

Gordon  found  the  two  kings  sitting  de 
jectedly  side  by  side,  and  gazing  grimly  upon 
the  disorder  of  the  village,  from  which  the 
people  were  taking  their  leave  as  quickly  as 
they  could  get  their  few  belongings  piled 
upon  the  ox-carts.  Gordon  walked  amongst 
them,  helping  them  in  every  way  he  could, 
and  tasting,  in  their  subservience  and  grat 
itude,  the  sweets  of  sovereignty.  When 
Stedman  had  locked  up  the  cable  office  and 
rejoined  him,  he  bade  him  tell  Messenwah  to 
send  three  of  his  youngest  men  and  fastest 
runners  back  to  the  hills  to  watch  for  the 
German  vessel  and  see  where  she  was  at 
tempting  to  land  her  marines. 

"This  is  a  tremendous  chance  for  de 
scriptive  writing,  Stedman,"  said  Gordon, 
enthusiastically,  "  all  this  confusion  and  ex 
citement,  and  the  people  leaving  their  homes 
and  all  that.  It's  like  the  people  getting  out 
of  Brussels  before  Waterloo,  and  then  the 
scene  at  the  foot  of  the  mountains,  while 
they  are  camping  out  there,  until  the  Ger 
mans  leave.  I  never  had  a  chance  like  this 
before." 

It  was  quite  dark  by  six  o'clock,  and  none 
of  the  three  messengers  had  as  yet  returned. 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  73 

Gordon  walked  up  and  down  the  empty 
plaza  and  looked  now  at  the  horizon  for  the 
man-of-war,  and  again  down  the  road  back  of 
the  village.  But  neither  the  vessel  nor  the 
messengers,  bearing  word  of  her,  appeared. 
The  night  passed  without  any  incident,  and 
in  the  morning  Gordon's  impatience  became 
so  great  that  he  walked  out  to  where  the 
villagers  were  in  camp  and  passed  on  half 
way  up  the  mountain,  but  he  could  see  no 
sign  of  the  man-of-war.  He  came  back 
more  restless  than  before,  and  keenly  dis 
appointed. 

"If  something  don't  happen  before  three 
o'clock,  Stedman, "  he  said,  "our  second 
cablegram  will  have  to  consist  of  glittering 
generalities  and  a  lengthy  interview  with 
King  Tellaman,  by  himself. ' ' 

Nothing  did  happen.  Ollypybus  and  Mes- 
senwah  began  to  breathe  more  freely.  They 
believed  the  new  king  had  succeeded  in 
frightening  the  German  vessel  away  forever. 
But  the  new  king  upset  their  hopes  by  tell 
ing  them  that  the  Germans  had  undoubtedly 
already  landed,  and  had  probably  killed  the 
three  messengers. 

"  Now,  then,"  he  said,  with  pleased  expecta- 


74  THE  EEPOETER    WHO 

tion,  as  Stedman  and  he  seated  themselves 
in  the  cable  office  at  three  o'clock,  "open  it 
up  and  let's  find  out  what  sort  of  an  impres 
sion  we  have  made." 

Stedman's  face,  as  the  answer  came  in  to 
his  first  message  of  greeting,  was  one  of 
strangely  marked  disapproval. 

"What  does  he  say?"  demanded  Gordon, 
anxiously. 

"He  hasn't  done  anything  but  swear  yet," 
answered  Stedman,  grimly. 

"What  is  he  swearing  about?" 
"  He  wants  to  know  why  I  left  the  cable 
yesterday.  He  says  he  has  been  trying  to 
call  me  up  for  the  last  twenty-four  hours. 
Ever  since  I  sent  my  message  at  three  o'clock. 
The  home  office  is  jumping  mad,  and  want 
me  discharged.  They  won't  do  that,  though, ' ' 
he  said,  in  a  cheerful  aside,  "because  they 
haven't  paid  me  my  salary  for  the  last  eight 
months.  He  says  — great  Scott!  this  will 
please  you,  Gordon  —  he  says  there  have  been 
over  two  hundred  queries  for  matter  from 
papers  all  over  the  United  States,  and  from 
Europe.  Your  paper  beat  them  on  the  news, 
and  now  the  home  office  is  packed  with  San 
Francisco  reporters,  and  the  telegrams  are 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  75 

coming  in  every  minute,  and  they  have  been 
abusing  him  for  not  answering  them,  and 
he  says  that  I'm  a  fool.  He  wants  as  much 
as  you  can  send,  and  all  the  details.  He  says 
all  the  papers  will  have  to  put  'By  Yokohama 
Cable  Company '  on  the  top  of  each  message 
they  print,  and  that  that  is  advertising  the 
company,  and  is  sending  the  stock  up.  It 
rose  fifteen  points  on  'change  in  San  Fran 
cisco  to-day,  and  the  president  and  the  other 
officers  — ' ' 

"  Oh,  I  don't  want  to  hear  about  their  old 
company,"  snapped  out  Gordon,  pacing  up 
and  down  in  despair.  "  What  am  I  to  do  ? 
that's  what  I  want  to  know.  Here  I  hav-  the 
whole  country  stirred  up  and  begging  for 
news.  On  their  knees  for  it,  and  a  cable  all 
to  myself  and  the  only  man  on  the  spot,  and 
nothing  to  say.  I'd  just  like  to  know  how 
long  that  German  idiot  intends  to  wait  before 
he  begins  shelling  this  town  and  killing 
people.  He  has  put  me  in  a  most  absurd 
position." 

"  Here's  a  message  for  you,  Gordon, "  said 
Stedman,  with  business-like  calm.  "  Albert 
Gordon,  Correspondent,"  he  read:  "Try 
American  consul.  First  message  O.K. ;  beat 


76  TEE  REPORTER   WHO 

the  country;  can  take  all  you  send.  Give 
names  of  foreign  residents  massacred,  and 
fuller  account  blowing  up  palace.  Dodge." 

The  expression  on  Gordon's  face  as  this 
message  was  slowly  read  off  to  him,  had 
changed  from  one  of  gratified  pride  to  one 
of  puzzled  consternation. 

"What's  he  mean  by  foreign  residents 
massacred,  and  blowing  up  of  palace  ? ' ' 
asked  Stedman,  looking  over  his  shoulder 
anxiously.  "  Who  is  Dodge  ?  ' ' 

"D  dge  is  the  night  editor,"  said  Gordon, 
nervously.  "They  must  have  read  my 
message  wrong.  You  sent  just  what  I  gave 
you,  didn't  you?  "  he  asked. 

"Of  course  I  did,"  said  Stedman,  indig 
nantly. 

"I  didn't  say  anything  about  the  massacre 
of  anybody,  did  I  ?  "  asked  Gordon.  "  I  hope 
they  are  not  improving  on  my  account. 
What  am  I  to  do  ?  This  is  getting  awful.  I'll 
have  to  go  out  and  kill  a  few  people  myself. 
Oh,  why  don't  that  Dutch  captain  begin  to 
do  something !  What  sort  of  a  fighter  does 
he  call  himself?  He  wouldn't  shoot  at  a 
school  of  porpoises.  He's  not  —  " 

"Here  conies  a   message    to    Leonard  T. 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  77 

Travis,  American  consul,  Opeki,"  read 
Stedman.  "It's  raining  messages  to-day. 
4  Send  full  details  of  massacre  of  American 
citizens  by  German  sailors.'  Secretary  of  — 
great  Scott!  "  gasped  Stedman,  interrupting 
himself  and  gazing  at  his  instrument  with 
horrified  fascination  —  "  the  Secretary  of 
State." 

"That  settles  it,"  roared  Gordon,  pulling 
at  his  hair  and  burying  his  face  in  his  hands. 
"I  have  got  to  kill  some  of  them  now." 

"Albert  Gordon,  Correspondent,"  read 
Stedman,  impressively,  like  the  voice  of  Fate. 
"Is  Colonel  Thomas  Bradley  commanding 
native  forces  at  Opeki,  Colonel  Sir  Thomas 
Kent-Bradley  of  Crimean  war  fame?  Cor 
respondent  London  Times,  San  Francisco 
Press  Club." 

"Go  on,  go  on!  "  said  Gordon,  desperately. 
"I'm  getting  used  to  it  now.  Go  on !  " 

"American  consul,  Opeki,"  read  Stedman. 
"  Home  Secretary  desires  you  to  furnish  list 
of  names  English  residents  killed  during 
shelling  of  Opeki  by  ship  of  war  Kaiser,  and 
estimate  of  amount  property  destroyed. 
Stoughton,  Office  of  English  consul,  San 
Francisco." 


78  THE  REPORTER    WHO 

"Stedman!  "  cried  Gordon,  jumping  to  his 
feet,  "there's  a  mistake  here  somewhere. 
These  people  cannot  all  have  made  my  mes 
sage  read  like  that.  Some  one  has  altered  it, 
and  now  I  have  got  to  make  these  people  here 
live  up  to  that  message,  whether  they  like 
being  massacred  and  blown  up  or  not.  Don't 
answer  any  of  those  messages,  except  the  one 
from  Dodge;  tell  him  things  have  quieted 
down  a  bit,  and  that  I'll  send  four  thousand 
words  on  the  flight  of  the  natives  from  the 
village,  and  their  encampment  at  the  foot  of 
the  mountains,  and  of  the  exploring  party 
we  have  sent  out  to  look  for  the  German 
vessel;  and  now  I  am  going  out  to  make 
something  happen. ' ' 

Gordon  said  he  would  be  gone  for  two 
hours  at  least,  and  as  Stedman  did  not  feel 
capable  of  receiving  any  more  nerve-stirring 
messages,  he  cut  off  all  connection  with  Oc- 
tavia,  by  saying,  "  Good  by  for  two  hours, ' ' 
and  running  away  from  the  office.  He  sat 
down  on  a  rock  on  the  beach,  and  mopped 
his  face  with  his  handkerchief. 

"  After  a  man  has  taken  nothing  more  ex 
citing  than  weather  reports  from  Octavia  for 
a  year,"  he  soliloquized,  "it's  a  bit  disturb- 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  79 

ing  to  have  all  the  crowned  heads  of  Europe 
and  their  secretaries  calling  upon  you  for 
details  of  a  massacre  that  never  came  off." 

At  the  end  of  two  hours  Gordon  came 
back  from  the  consulate  with  a  mass  of 
manuscript  in  his  hand. 

"Here's  three  thousand  words,"  he  said 
desperately.  "  I  never  wrote  more  and  said 
less  in  my  life.  It  will  made  them  weep  at 
the  office.  I  had  to  pretend  that  they  knew 
all  that  had  happened  so  far;  they  apparently 
do  know  more  than  we  do,  and  I  have  rilled  it 
full  of  prophesies  of  more  trouble  ahead,  and 
with  interviews  with  myself  and  the  two  ex- 
Kings.  The  only  news  element  in  it  is,  that 
the  messengers  have  returned  to  report  that 
the  German  vessel  is  not  in  sight,  and 
that  there  is  no  news.  They  think  she  has 
gone  for  good.  Suppose  she  has,  Stedman," 
he  groaned,  looking  at  him  helplessly,  "  what 
am  I  going  to  do  ?  " 

"Well,  as  for  me,"  said  Stedman,  "I'm 
afraid  to  go  near  that  cable.  It's  like  play 
ing  with  a  live  wire.  My  nervous  system 
won't  stand  many  more  such  shocks  as  those 
they  gave  us  this  morning." 

Gordon  threw  himself  down  dejectedly  in 


80  THE  EEPOETEE   WHO 

a  chair  in  the  office,  and  Stedman  approached 
his  instrument  gingerly,  as  though  it  might 
explode. 

"He's  swearing  again,"  he  explained 
sadly,  in  answer  to  Gordon's  look  of  inquiry. 
"  He  wants  to  know  when  I  am  going  to  stop 
running  away  from  the  wire.  He  has  a  stack 
of  messages  to  send,  he  says,  but  I  guess 
he'd  better  wait  and  take  your  copy  first; 
don't  you  think  so?  " 

"  Yes,  I  do, "  said  Gordon.  "  I  don't  want 
any  more  messages  than  I've  had.  That's 
the  best  I  can  do, ' '  he  said,  as  he  threw  his 
manuscript  down  beside  Stedman.  "And 
they  can  keep  on  cabling  until  the  wire  burns 
red  hot,  and  they  won't  get  any  more." 

There  was  silence  in  the  office  for  some 
time,  while  Stedman  looked  over  Gordon's 
copy,  and  Gordon  stared  dejectedly  out  at 
the  ocean. 

"This  is  pretty  poor  stuff,  Gordon,"  said 
Stedman.  "It's  like  giving  people  milk 
when  they  want  brandy." 

"Don't  you  suppose  I  know  that?" 
growled  Gordon.  "It's  the  best  I  can  do, 
isn't  it?  It's  not  my  fault  that  we  are  not  all 
dead  now.  I  can't  massacre  foreign  residents 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  81 

if  there  are  no  foreign  residents,  but  I  can 
commit  suicide  though,  and  I'll  do  it  if 
something  don't  happen." 

There  was  a  long  pause,  in  which  the 
silence  of  the  office  was  only  broken  by  the 
sound  of  the  waves  beating  on  the  coral  reefs 
outside.  Stedman  raised  his  head  wearily. 

"He's  swearing  again,"  he  said;  "he  says 
this  stuff  of  yours  is  all  nonsense.  He  says 
stock  in  the  Y.  C.  C.  has  gone  up  to  one 
hundred  and  two,  and  that  owners  are  un 
loading  and  making  their  fortunes,  and  that 
this  sort  of  descriptive  writing  is  not  what 
the  company  want." 

"What's  he  think  I'm  here  for?"  cried 
Gordon.  "  Does  he  think  I  pulled  down  the 
German  flag  and  risked  my  neck  half  a  dozen 
times  and  had  myself  made  King  just  to 
boom  his  Yokohama  cable  stock?  Confound 
him!  You  might  at  least  swear  back.  Tell 
him  just  what  the  situation  is  in  a  fe\v  words. 
Here,  stop  that  rigmarole  to  the  paper,  and 
explain  to  your  home  office  that  we  are  await 
ing  developments,  and  that,  in  the  mean 
while,  they  must  put  up  with  the  best  we 
can  send  them.  Wait;  send  this  to  Oc- 
tavia." 


82  THE  REPORTER    WHO 

Gordon  wrote    rapidly,  and   read  what  he 
wrote  as  rapidly  as  it  was  written. 

"Operator,  Octavia.  You  seem  to  have 
misunderstood  my  first  message.  The  facts 
in  the  case  are  these.  A  German  man-of-war 
raised  a  flag  on  this  island.  It  was  pulled 
down  and  the  American  flag  raised  in  its 
place  and  saluted  by  a  brass  cannon.  The 
German  man-of-war  fired  once  at  the  flag  and 
knocked  it  down,  and  then  steamed  away  and 
has  not  been  seen  since.  Two  huts  were 
upset,  that  is  all  the  damage  done ;  the  bat 
tery  consisted  of  the  one  brass  cannon  before 
mentioned.  No  one,  either  native  or  foreign, 
has  been  massacred.  The  English  residents 
are  two  sailors.  The  American  residents  are 
the  young  man  who  is  sending  you  this  cable 
and  myself.  Our  first  message  was  quite 
true  in  substance,  but  perhaps  misleading  in 
detail.  I  made  it  so  because  I  fully  expected 
much  more  to  happen  immediately.  Nothing 
has  happened,  or  seems  likely  to  happen,  and 
that  is  the  exact  situation  up  to  date.  Albert 
Gordon." 

"  Now, ' '  he  asked  after  a  pause,  "  what  does 
he  say  to  that?" 

"He  doesn't  say  anything, "  said  Stedman. 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  83 

"I  guess  he  has  fainted.  Here  it  comes," 
he  added  in  the  same  breath.  He  bent 
toward  his  instrument,  and  Gordon  raised 
himself  from  his  chair  and  stood  beside  him 
as  he  read  it  off.  The  two  young  men 
hardly  breathed  in  the  intensity  of  their 
interest. 

"Dear  Stedman, "  he  slowly  read  aloud. 
"  You  and  your  young  friend  are  a  couple  of 
fools.  If  you  had  allowed  me  to  send  you 
the  messages  awaiting  transmission  here  to 
you,  you  would  not  have  sent  me  such  a  con 
fession  of  guilt  as  you  have  just  done.  You 
had  better  leave  Opeki  at  once  or  hide  in  the 
hills.  I  am  afraid  I  have  placed  you  in  a 
somewhat  compromising  position  with  the 
company,  which  is  unfortunate,  especially  as, 
if  I  am  not  mistaken,  they  owe  you  some  back 
pay.  You  should  have  been  wiser  in  your 
day,  and  bought  Y.  C.  C.  stock  when  it  was 
down  to  five  cents,  as  yours  truly  did.  You 
are  not,  Stedman,  as  bright  a  boy  as  some. 
And  as  for  your  friend,  the  war  correspon 
dent,  he  has  queered  himself  for  life.  You 
see,  my  dear  Stedman,  after  I  had  sent  off 
your  first  message,  and  demands  for  further 
details  came  pouring  in,  and  I  could  not  get 


84  THE  REPORTER    WHO 

you  at  the  wire  to  supply  them,  I  took  the 
liberty  of  sending  some  on  myself. ' ' 

"  Great  Heavens !  ' '  gasped  Gordon. 

Stedman  grew  very  white  under  his  tan, 
and  the  perspiration  rolled  on  his  cheeks. 

"Your  message  was  so  general  in  its  na 
ture,  that  it  allowed  my  imagination  full 
play,  and  I  sent  on  what  I  thought  would 
please  the  papers,  and  what  was  much  more 
important  to  me,  would  advertise  the  Y.  C.  C. 
stock.  This  I  have  been  doing  while  wait 
ing  for  material  from  you.  Not  having  a 
clear  idea  of  the  dimensions  or  population 
of  Opeki,  it  is  possible  that  I  have  done  you 
and  your  newspaper  friend  some  injustice.  I 
killed  off  about  a  hundred  American  resi 
dents,  two  hundred  English,  because  I  do 
not  like  the  English,  and  a  hundred  French. 
I  blew  up  old  Ollypybus  and  his  palace  with 
dynamite,  and  shelled  the  city,  destroying 
some  hundred  thousand  dollars'  worth  of  prop 
erty,  and  then  I  waited  anxiously  for  your 
friend  to  substantiate  what  I  had  said.  This 
he  has  most  unkindly  failed  to  do.  I  am  very 
sorry,  but  much  more  so  for  him  than  for  my 
self,  for  I,  my  dear  friend,  have  cabled  on  to 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  85 

a  man  in  San  Francisco,  who  is  one  of  the 
directors  of  the  Y.  C.  C.,  to  sell  all  my  stock, 
which  he  has  done  at  one  hundred  and  two, 
and  he  is  keeping  the  money  until  I  come. 
And  I  leave  Octavia  this  afternoon  to  reap  my 
just  reward.  I  am  in  about  $20,000  on  your 
little  war,  and  I  feel  grateful.  So  much  so 
that  I  will  inform  you  that  the  ship  of  war 
Kaiser  has  arrived  at  San  Francisco,  for 
which  port  she  sailed  directly  from  Opeki. 
Her  captain  has  explained  the  real  situation, 
and  offered  to  make  every  amend  for  the  ac 
cidental  indignity  shown  to  our  flag.  He 
says  he  aimed  at  the  cannon,  which  was 
trained  on  his  vessel,  and  which  had  first 
fired  on  him.  But  you  must  know,  my  dear 
Stedman,  that  before  his  arrival,  war  vessels 
belonging  to  the  several  powers  mentioned  in 
my  revised  dispatches,  had  started  for  Opeki 
at  full  speed,  to  revenge  the  butchery  of  the 
foreign  residents.  A  word,  my  dear  young 
friend,  to  the  wise  is  sufficient.  I  am  in 
debted  to  you  to  the  extent  of  $20,000,  and 
in  return  I  give  you  this  kindly  advice. 
Leave  Opeki.  If  there  is  no  other  way, 
swim.  But  leave  Opeki." 


86  THE  REPORTER   WHO 

The  sun,  that  night,  as  it  sank  below  the 
line  where  the  clouds  seemed  to  touch  the 
sea,  merged  them  both  into  a  blazing,  blood- 
red  curtain,  and  colored  the  most  wonderful 
spectacle  that  the  natives  of  Opeki  had  ever 
seen.  Six  great  ships  of  war,  stretching  out 
over  a  league  of  sea,  stood  blackly  out  against 
the  red  background,  rolling  and  rising,  and 
leaping  forward,  flinging  back  smoke  and 
burning  sparks  up  into  the  air  behind  them, 
and  throbbing  and  panting  like  living  creat 
ures  in  their  race  for  revenge.  From  the 
south,  came  a  three-decked  vessel,  a  great 
island  of  floating  steel,  with  a  flag  as  red  as 
the  angry  sky  behind  it,  snapping  in  the  wind. 
To  the  south  of  it  plunged  two  long  low-lying 
torpedo  boats,  flying  the  French  tri-color,  and 
still  further  to  the  north  towered  three  mag 
nificent  hulls  of  the  White  Squadron.  Ven 
geance  was  written  on  every  curve  and  line, 
on  each  straining  engine  rod,  and  on  each 
polished  gun  muzzle. 

And  in  front  of  these,  a  clumsy  fishing 
boat  rose  and  fell  on  each  passing  wave. 
Two  sailors  sat  in  the  stern,  holding  the  rope 
and  tiller,  and  in  the  bow,  with  their  backs 
turned  forever  toward  Opeki,  stood  two  young 


To  the  North  towered  three  magnificent  hulls  of  the  White  Squadron. 


MADE  HIMSELF  KING.  87 

boys,  their  faces  lit  by  the  glow  of  the  setting 
sun  and  stirred  by  the  sight  of  the  great  en 
gines  of  war  plunging  past  them  on  their 
errand  of  vengeance. 

"Stedman,"  said  the  elder  boy,  in  an  awe 
struck  whisper,  and  with  a  wave  of  his  hand, 
"we  have  not  lived  in  vain." 


MIDSUMMER   PIEATES. 


THE  boys  living  at  the  Atlantic  House, 
and  the  boys  boarding  at  Chadwick's,  held 
mutual  sentiments  of  something  not  unlike 
enmity  —  feelings  of  hostility  from  which 
even  the  older  boarders  were  not  altogether 
free.  Nor  was  this  unnatural  under  the  cir 
cumstances. 

When  Judge  Henry  S.  Carter  and  his 
friend  Dr.  Prescott  first  discovered  Manas- 
quan,  such  an  institution  as  the  Atlantic 
House  seemed  an  impossibility,  and  land 
improvement  companies,  Queen  Anne  cot 
tages,  and  hacks  to  and  from  the  railroad 
station,  were  out  of  all  calculation.  At  that 
time  "Captain"  Chadwick's  farmhouse, 
though  not  rich  in  all  the  modern  improve 
ments  of  a  seaside  hotel,  rejoiced  in  a  table 
covered  three  times  a  day  with  the  good 
things  from  the  farm.  The  river  back  of  the 
house  was  full  of  fish,  and  the  pine  woods 
88 


MIDSUMMER  PIE  ATE  S.  89 

along  its  banks  were  intended  by  nature  ex 
pressly  for  the  hanging  of  hammocks. 

The  chief  amusements  were  picnics  to  the 
head  of  the  river  (or  as  near  the  head  as  the 
boats  could  get  through  the  lily-pads),  crab 
bing  along  the  shore,  and  races  on  the  river 
itself,  which,  if  it  was  broad,  was  so  absurdly 
shallow  that  an  upset  meant  nothing  more 
serious  than  a  wetting  and  a  temporary  loss 
of  reputation  as  a  sailor. 

But  all  this  had  been  spoiled  by  the  advance 
of  civilization  and  the  erection  of  the  Atlan 
tic  House. 

The  railroad  surveyors,  with  their  high-top 
boots  and  transits,  were  the  first  signs  of  the 
approaching  evils.  After  them  came  the 
Ozone  Land  Company,  which  bought  up  all 
the  sand  hills  bordering  on  the  ocean,  and  pro 
ceeded  to  stake  out  a  flourishing  "  city  by  the 
sea  "  and  to  erect  sign-posts  in  the  marshes  to 
show  where  they  would  lay  out  streets  named 
after  the  directors  of  the  Ozone  Land  Com 
pany  and  the  Presidents  of  the  United  States. 

It  was  not  unnatural,  therefore,  that  the 
Carters,  and  the  Prescotts,  and  all  the  judge's 
clients,  and  the  doctor's  patients,  who  had 
been  coming  to  Manasquan  for  many  years, 


90  MIDSUMMER  PIRATES. 

and  loved  it  for  its  simplicity  and  quiet, 
should  feel  aggrieved  at  these  great  changes. 
And  though  the  young  Carters  and  Prescotts 
endeavored  to  impede  the  march  of  civiliza 
tion  by  pulling  up  the  surveyor's  stakes  and 
tearing  down  the  Land  Company's  sign-posts, 
the  inevitable  improvements  marched  steadily 


on. 


I  hope  all  this  will  show  why  it  was  that 
the  boys  who  lived  at  the  Atlantic  House  — 
and  dressed  as  if  they  were  still  in  the  city, 
and  had  "hops"  every  evening  —  were  not 
pleasing  to  the  boys  who  boarded  at  Chad- 
wick's,  who  never  changed  their  flannel  suits 
for  anything  more  formal  than  their  bathing- 
dresses,  and  spent  the  summer  nights  on  the 
river. 

This  spirit  of  hostility  and  its  past  history 
were  explained  to  the  new  arrival  at  Chad- 
wick's  by  young  Teddy  Carter,  as  the  two 
sat  under  the  willow  tree  watching  a  game  of 
tennis.  The  new  arrival  had  just  expressed 
his  surprise  at  the  earnest  desire  manifest  on 
the  part  of  the  entire  Chadwick  establish 
ment  to  defeat  the  Atlantic  House  people  in 
the  great  race  which  was  to  occur  on  the  day 
following. 


MIDSUMMER  PIRATES.  91 

"Well,  you  see,  sir,"  said  Teddy,  "con 
siderable  depends  on  this  race.  As  it  is  now, 
we  stand  about  even.  The  Atlantic  House 
beat  us  playing  base-ball,  —  though  they  had 
to  get  the  waiters  to  help  them,  —  and  we 
beat  them  at  tennis.  Our  house  is  great  on 
tennis.  Then  we  had  a  boat  race,  and  our 
boat  won.  They  claimed  it  wasn't  a  fair 
race,  because  their  best  boat  was  stuck  on 
the  sand  bar,  and  so  we  agreed  to  sail  it  over 
again.  The  second  time  the  wind  gave  out, 
and  all  the  boats  had  to  be  poled  home.  The 
Atlantic  House  boat  was  poled  in  first,  and 
her  crew  claimed  the  race.  Wasn't  it  silly 
of  them?  Why,  Charley  Prescott  told  them, 
if  they'd  only  said  it  was  to  be  a  poling  match, 
he'd  have  entered  a  mud-scow  and  left  his 
sail-boat  at  the  dock ! ' ' 

"  And  so  you  are  going  to  race  again  to 
morrow  ?  ' '  asked  the  new  arrival. 

"Well,  it  isn't  exactly  a  race,"  explained 
Teddy.  "  It's  a  game  we  boys  have  invented. 
We  call  it  'Pirates  and  Smugglers.'  It's 
something  like  tag,  only  we  play  it  on  the 
water,  in  boats.  We  divide  boats  and  boys 
up  into  two  sides;  half  of  them  are  pirates 
or  smugglers,  and  half  of  them  are  revenue 


92  MIDSUMMEE  PIEATES. 

officers  or  man-o'-war's-men.  The  'Pirate's 
Lair '  is  at  the  island,  and  our  dock  is 
'Cuba.'  That's  where  the  smugglers  run 
in  for  cargoes  of  cigars  and  brandy.  Mr. 
Moore  gives  us  his  empty  cigar  boxes,  and 
Miss  Sherrill  (the  lady  who's  down  here  for 
her  health)  let  us  have  all  the  empty  Apol- 
linaris  bottles.  We  fill  the  bottles  with 
water  colored  with  crushed  blackberries,  and 
that  answers  for  brandy. 

"  The  revenue  officers  are  stationed  at  An 
napolis  (that's  the  Atlantic  House  dock),  and 
when  they  see  a  pirate  start  from  the  island, 
or  from  our  dock,  they  sail  after  him.  If 
they  can  touch  him  with  the  bow  of  their 
boat,  or  if  one  of  their  men  can  board  him, 
that  counts  one  for  the  revenue  officers ;  and 
they  take  down  his  sail  and  the  pirate  captain 
gives  up  his  tiller  as  a  sign  of  surrender. 

"Then  they  tow  him  back  to  Annapolis, 
where  they  keep  him  a  prisoner  until  he  is 
exchanged.  But  if  the  pirate  can  dodge  the 
Custom  House  boat,  and  get  to  the  place  he 
started  for,  without  being  caught,  that  counts 
one  for  him. ' ' 

"Very  interesting,  indeed,"  said  the  new 
arrival;  "but  suppose  the  pirate  won't  be 
captured  or  give  up  his  tiller,  what  then  ?  " 


MIDSUMMER  PIRATES.  93 

"Oh,  well,  in  that  case,"  said  Teddy,  re 
flectively,  "they'd  cut  his  sheet-rope,  or 
splash  water  on  him,  or  hit  him  with  an  oar, 
or  something.  But  he  generally  gives  right 
up.  Now  to-morrow  the  Atlantic  House 
boys  are  to  be  the  revenue  officers  and  we  are 
to  be  the  pirates.  They  have  been  watching 
us  as  we  played  the  game,  all  summer,  and 
they  think  they  understand  it  well  enough  to 
capture  our  boats  without  any  trouble  at 
all." 

"And  what  do  you  think?  "  asked  the  new 
arrival. 

"Well,  I  can't  say,  certainly.  They  have 
faster  boats  than  ours,  but  they  don't  know 
how  to  sail  them.  If  we  had  their  boats,  or 
if  they  knew  as  much  about  the  river  as  we 
do,  it  would  be  easy  enough  to  name  the 
winners.  But  as  it  is,  it's  about  even." 

Every  one  who  owned  a  boat  was  on  the 
river  the  following  afternoon,  and  those  who 
didn't  own  a  boat  hired  or  borrowed  one  — - 
with  or  without  the  owner's  permission. 

The  shore  from  Chadwick's  to  the  Atlantic 
House  dock  was  crowded  with  people.  All 
Manasquan  seemed  to  be  ranged  in  line  along 


94  MIDSUMMER  PIRATES. 

the  river's  bank.  Crab-men  and  clam-diggers 
mixed  indiscriminately  with  the  summer 
boarders;  and  the  beach-wagons  and  stages 
from  Chadwick's  grazed  the  wheels  of  the 
dog-carts  and  drags  from  the  Atlantic's  liv 
ery  stables. 

It  does  not  take  much  to  overthrow  the 
pleasant  routine  of  summer-resort  life,  and 
the  state  of  temporary  excitement  existing  at 
the  two  houses  on  the  eve  of  the  race  was  not 
limited  to  the  youthful  contestants. 

The  proprietor  of  the  Atlantic  House  had 
already  announced  an  elaborate  supper  in 
honor  of  the  anticipated  victory,  and  every 
father  and  mother  whose  son  was  to  take  part 
in  the  day's  race  felt  the  importance  of  the 
occasion  even  more  keenly  than  the  son  him 
self. 

"Of  course,"  said  Judge  Carter,  "it's  only 
a  game,  and  for  my  part,  so  long  as  no  one 
is  drowned,  I  don't  really  care  who  wins; 
but,  if  our  boys"  ("our  boys"  meaning  all 
three  crews)  "allow  those  young  whipper- 
snappers  from  the  Atlantic  House  to  win  the 
pennant,  they  deserve  to  have  their  boats 
taken  from  them  and  exchanged  for  hoops 
and  marbles !  ' ' 


MIDSUMMER  PIEATES.  95 

Which  goes  to  show  how  serious  a  matter 
was  the  success  of  the  Chad  wick  crews. 

At  three  o'clock  the  amateur  pirates  started 
from  the  dock  to  take  up  their  positions  at 
the  island.  Each  of  the  three  small  cat-boats, 
held  two  boys :  one  at  the  helm  and  one  in 
charge  of  the  centre-board  and  sheet-rope. 
Each  pirate  wore  a  jersey  striped  with  differ 
ing  colors,  and  the  head  of  each  bore  the 
sanguinary  red  knitted  cap,  in  which  all 
genuine  pirates  are  wont  to  appear.  From 
the  peaks  of  the  three  boats  floated  black 
flags,  bearing  the  emblematic  skull  and  bones 
of  Captain  Kidd's  followers. 

As  they  left  the  dock  the  Chadwick's  peo 
ple  cheered  with  delight  at  their  appearance 
and  shouted  encouragement,  while  the  re 
maining  youngsters  fired  salutes  with  a  small 
cannon,  which  added  to  the  uproar  as  well  as 
increased  the  excitement  of  the  moment  by 
its  likelihood  to  explode. 

At  the  Atlantic  House  dock,  also,  the 
excitement  was  at  fever  heat. 

Clad  in  white  flannel  suits  and  white  duck 
yachting-caps  with  gilt  buttons,  the  revenue 
officers  strolled  up  and  down  the  pier  with  an 
air  of  cool  and  determined  purpose  such  as 


96  MIDSUMMER  PIRATES. 

Decatur  may  have  worn  as  he  paced  the  deck 
of  his  man-of-war  and  scanned  the  horizon 
for  Algerine  pirates.  The  stars  and  stripes 
floated  bravely  from  the  peaks  of  the  three 
cat-boats,  soon  to  leap  in  pursuit  of  the  pirate 
craft  which  were  conspicuously  making  for 
the  starting-point  at  the  island. 

At  half-past  three  the  judge's  steam-launch, 
the  G-racie,  made  foi  the  middle  of  the  river, 
carrying  two  representatives  from  both  houses 
and  a  dozen  undergraduates  from  different 
colleges,  who  had  chartered  the  boat  for  the 
purpose  of  following  the  race  and  seeing  at 
close  quarters  all  that  was  to  be  seen. 

They  enlivened  the  occasion  by  courteously 
and  impartially  giving  the  especial  yell  of 
each  college  of  which  there  was  a  represent 
ative  present,  whether  they  knew  him  or 
not,  or  whether  he  happened  to  be  an  under 
graduate,  a  professor,  or  an  alumnus.  Lest 
some  one  might  inadvertently  be  overlooked, 
they  continued  to  yell  throughout  the  course 
of  the  afternoon,  giving,  in  time,  the  shib 
boleth  of  every  known  institution  of  learn 
ing. 

"  Which  do  I  think  is  going  to  win  ?  ' '  said 
the  veteran  boat-builder  of  Manasquan  to 


MIDSUMMER  PIRATES.  97 

the  inquiring  group  around  his  boat-house. 
"Well,  I  wouldn't  like  to  say.  You  see,  I 
built  every  one  of  those  boats  that  sails  to 
day,  and  every  time  I  make  a  boat  I  make  it 
better  than  the  last  one.  Now,  the  Chad- 
wick  boats  I  built  near  five  years  ago,  and 
the  Atlantic  House  boats  I  built  last  summer, 
and  I've  learned  a  good  deal  in  five  years." 

"  So  you  think  our  side  will  win  ?  "  eagerly 
interrupted  an  Atlantic  House  boarder. 

"Well,  I  didn't  say  so,  did  I?"  inquired 
the  veteran,  with  crushing  slowness  of  speech. 
"I  didn't  say  so.  For  though  these  boats 
the  Chadwick's  boys  have  is  five  years  old, 
they're  good  boats  still ;  and  those  boys  know 
every  trick  and  turn  of  'em  —  and  they  know 
every  current  and  sand-bar  just  as  though  it 
was  marked  with  a  piece  of  chalk.  So  if  the 
Atlantic  folks  win,  it'll  be  because  they've 
got  the  best  boats;  and  if  the  Chadwick 
boys  win,  they'll  win  because  they're  better 
sailors." 

In  the  fashion  of  all  first-class  aquatic  con 
tests,  it  was  fully  half  an  hour  after  the  time 
appointed  for  the  race  to  begin  before  the  first 
pirate  boat  left  the  island. 

The  Ripple,  with  Judge  Carter's  two  sons 


98  MIDSUMMER  PIRATES. 

in  command,  was  the  leader;  and  when  her 
sail  filled  and  showed  above  the  shore,  a 
cheer  from  the  Chadwick's  dock  was  carried 
to  the  ears  of  the  pirate  crew  who  sat  perched 
011  the  rail  as  she  started  on  her  first  long 
tack. 

In  a  moment,  two  of  the  Atlantic  House 
heroes  tumbled  into  the  Osprey,  a  dozen 
over-hasty  hands  had  cast  off  her  painter, 
had  shoved  her  head  into  the  stream,  and  the 
great  race  was  begun. 

The  wind  was  down  the  river,  or  toward 
the  island,  so  that  while  the  Osprey  was  sail 
ing  before  the  wind,  the  Ripple  had  her  sail 
close-hauled  and  was  tacking. 

"They're  after  us!  "  said  Charley  Carter, 
excitedly.  "It's  the  Osprey;  but  I  can't 
make  out  who's  handling  her.  From  the 
way  they  are  pointing,  I  think  they  expect 
to  reach  us  on  this  tack  as  we  go  about." 

The  crew  of  the  Osprey  evidently  thought 
so  too,  for  her  bow  was  pointed  at  a  spot  on 
the  shore,  near  which  the  Hippie  must  turn 
if  she  continued  much  longer  on  the  same 
tack. 

"  Do  you  see  that  ?  ' '  gasped  Charley,  who 
was  acting  as  lookout.  "  They're  letting  her 


MIDSUMMER  PIEATES.  99 

drift  in  the  wind  so  as  not  to  get  there  before 
us.  I  tell  you  what  it  is,  Gus,  they  know 
what  they're  doing,  and  I  think  we'd  better 
go  about  now. ' ' 

"  Do  you  ?  ' '  inquired  the  younger  brother, 
who  had  a  lofty  contempt  for  the  other's  judg 
ment  as  a  sailor.  "Well,  I  don't.  My 
plan  is  simply  this :  I  am  going  to  run  as 
near  the  shore  as  I  can,  then  go  about  sharp, 
and  let  them  drift  by  us  by  a  boat's  length. 
A  boat's  length  is  as  good  as  a  mile,  and 
then,  when  we  are  both  heading  the  same 
way,  I  would  like  to  see  them  touch  us !  " 

"What's  the  use  of  taking  such  risks?" 
demanded  the  elder  brother.  "  I  tell  you,  we 
can't  afford  to  let  them  get  so  near  as  that." 

"At  the  same  time,"  replied  the  man  at  the 
helm,  "that  is  what  we  are  going  to  do.  I 
am  commanding  this  boat,  please  to  remem 
ber,  and  if  I  take  the  risks  I  am  willing  to 
take  the  blame." 

"You'll  be  doing  well,  if  you  get  off  with 
nothing  but  blame,"  growled  the  elder 
brother.  "If  you  let  those  kids  catch  us, 
I'll  throw  you  overboard!  " 

"I'll  put  you  in  irons  for  threatening  a 
superior  officer  if  you  don't  keep  quiet," 


100  MIDSUMMER  PIE  ATE  S. 

answered  the  younger  Carter,  with  a  grin,  and 
the  mutiny  ended. 

It  certainly  would  have  been  great  sport 
to  have  run  almost  into  the  arms  of  the  rev 
enue  officers,  and  then  to  have  turned  and 
led  them  a  race  to  the  goal,  but  the  humor  of 
young  Carter's  plan  was  not  so  apparent  to 
the  anxious  throng  of  sympathizers  on  Chad- 
wick's  dock. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  the  boys  ?  Why 
don't  they  go  about?"  asked  Captain  Chad- 
wick,  excitedly.  "One  would  think  they 
were  trying  to  be  caught." 

As  he  spoke,  the  sail  of  the  Ripple  flut 
tered  in  the  wind,  her  head  went  about 
sharply,  and,  as  her  crew  scrambled  up  on 
the  windward  rail,  she  bent  and  bowed 
gracefully  on  the  homeward  tack. 

But,  before  the  boat  was  fully  under  way, 
the  Osprey  came  down  upon  her  with  a  rush. 
The  Carters  hauled  in  the  sail  until  their 
sheet  lay  almost  flat  with  the  surface  of  the 
river,  the  water  came  pouring  over  the  lee 
ward  rail,  and  the  boys  threw  their  bodies  far 
over  the  other  side,  in  an  effort  to  right  her. 
The  next  instant  there  was  a  crash,  the  de 
spised  boat  of  the  Atlantic  House  struck  her 


MIDSUMMER  PIRATES.  101 

fairly  in  the  side,  and  one  of  the  Atlantic 
House  crew  had  boarded  the  Ripple  with  a 
painter  in  one  hand  and  his  hat  in  the  other. 

Whether  it  was  the  shock  of  the  collision, 
or  disgust  at  having  been  captured,  no  one 
could  tell;  but  when  the  Osprey's  bow  struck 
the  Ripple,  the  younger  Carter  calmly  let 
himself  go  over  backward  and  remained  in 
the  mud  with  the  water  up  to  his  chin  and 
without  making  an  effort  to  help  himself, 
until  the  judge's  boat  picked  him  up  and 
carried  him,  an  ignominious  prisoner-of-war, 
to  the  Atlantic  House  dock. 

The  disgust  over  the  catastrophe  to  the 
pirate  crew  was  manifested  on  the  part  of  the 
Chadwick  sympathizers  by  gloomy  silence  or 
loudly  expressed  indignation.  On  the  whole, 
it  was  perhaps  just  as  well  that  the  two  Car 
ters,  as  prisoners-of- war,  were  forced  to  remain 
at  the  Atlantic  House  dock,  for  their  recep 
tion  at  home  would  not  have  been  a  gracious 
one. 

Their  captors,  on  the  other  hand,  were  re 
ceived  with  all  the  honor  due  triumphant 
heroes,  and  were  trotted  off  the  pier  on  the 
shoulders  of  their  cheering  admirers;  while 
the  girls  in  the  carriages  waved  their  parasols 


102  MIDSUMMER  PIRATES. 

and  handkerchiefs  and  the  colored  waiters  on 
the  banks  danced  up  and  down  and  shouted 
like  so  many  human  calliopes. 

The  victories  of  John  Paul  Jones  and  the 
rescue  of  Lieutenant  Greely  became  aquatic 
events  of  little  importance  in  comparison. 
Everybody  was  so  encouraged  at  this  first 
success,  that  Atlantic  House  stock  rose  fifty 
points  in  as  many  seconds,  and  the  next  crew 
to  sally  forth  from  that  favored  party  felt  that 
the  second  and  decisive  victory  was  already 
theirs. 

Again  the  black  flag  appeared  around  the 
bank  of  the  island,  and  011  the  instant  a  sec 
ond  picked  crew  of  the  Atlantic  House  was 
in  pursuit.  But  the  boys  who  commanded 
the  pirate  craft  had  no  intention  of  taking  or 
giving  any  chances.  They  put  their  boat 
about,  long  before  the  revenue  officers  ex 
pected  them  to  do  so,  and  forced  their  adver 
saries  to  go  so  directly  before  the  wind  that 
their  boat  rocked  violently.  It  was  not  long 
before  the  boats  drew  nearer  together,  again, 
as  if  they  must  certainly  meet  at  a  point  not 
more  than  a  hundred  yards  from  the  Atlantic 
House  pier,  where  the  excitement  had  passed 
the  noisy  point  and  had  reached  that  of  titil 
lating  silence. 


MIDSUMMER  PIBATES.  103 

"  Go  about  sharp !  "  snapped  out  the  captain 
of  the  pirate  boat,  pushing  his  tiller  from  him 
and  throwing  his  weight  upon  it.  His  first 
officer  pulled  the  sail  close  over  the  deck,  the 
wind  caught  it  fairly,  and  almost  before  the 
spectators  were  aware  of  it,  the  pirate  boat 
had  gone  about  and  was  speeding  away  011 
another  tack.  The  revenue  officers  were  not 
prepared  for  this.  They  naturally  thought 
the  pirates  would  run  as  close  to  the  shore  as 
they  possibly  could  before  they  tacked,  and 
were  aiming  for  the  point  at  which  they  cal 
culated  their  opponents  would  go  about,  just 
as  did  the  officers  in  the  first  race. 

Seeing  this,  and  not  wishing  to  sail  too 
close  to  them,  the  pirates  had  gone  about 
much  farther  from  the  shore  than  was  needful. 
In  order  to  follow  them  the  revenue  officers 
were  now  forced  to  come  about  and  tack, 
which,  going  before  the  wind  as  they  were, 
they  found  less  easy.  The  sudden  change  in 
their  opponents'  tactics  puzzled  them,  and  one 
of  the  two  boys  bungled.  On  future  occa 
sions  each  confidentially  informed  his  friends 
that  it  was  the  other  who  was  responsible; 
but,  however  that  may  have  been,  the  boat 
missed  stays,  her  sail  flapped  weakly  in 


104  MIDSUMMER  PIRATES. 

the  breeze,  and,  while  the  crew  were  vigor 
ously  trying  to  set  her  in  the  wind  by  lash 
ing  the  water  with  her  rudder,  the  pirate  boat 
was  off  and  away,  one  hundred  yards  to  the 
good,  and  the  remainder  of  the  race  was  a 
procession  of  two  boats  with  the  pirates  easily 
in  the  lead. 

And  now  came  the  final  struggle.  Now 
came  the  momentous  "rubber,"  which  was 
to  plunge  Chadwick's  into  gloom,  or  keep 
them  still  the  champions  of  the  river.  The 
appetites  of  both  were  whetted  for  victory  by 
the  single  triumph  each  had  already  won,  and 
their  representatives  felt  that,  for  them,  suc 
cess  or  a  watery  grave  were  the  alternatives. 
The  Atlantic  House  boat,  the  Wave,  and 
the  boat  upon  which  the  Chadwick's  hopes 
were  set,  the  Hover,  were  evenly  matched, 
their  crews  were  composed  of  equally  good 
sailors,  and  each  was  determined  to  tow  the 
other  ignominiously  into  port. 

The  two  Prescotts  watched  the  Wave  crit 
ically  and  admiringly,  as  she  came  toward 
them  with  her  crew  perched  on  her  side  and 
the  water  showing  white  under  her  bow. 

"  They're  coming  entirely  too  fast  to  suit 
me,"  said  the  elder  Prescott.  "I  want  more 


M1DSUMMEE  PIE  ATE 'S.  105 

room,  and  I  have  a  plan  to  get  it.  Stand 
ready  to  go  about."  The  younger  brother 
stood  ready  to  go  about,  keeping  the  Hover 
on  her  first  tack  until  she  was  clear  of  the 
island's  high  banks  and  had  the  full  sweep  of 
the  wind;  then,  to  the  surprise  of  her  pur 
suers  and  the  bewilderment  of  the  spectators, 
she  went  smartly  about,  and  turning  her  bow 
directly  away  from  the  goal,  started  before 
the  wind  back  past  the  island  and  toward 
the  wide  stretch  of  river  on  the  upper  side. 

"What's  your  man  doing  that  for?"  ex 
citedly  asked  one  of  the  Atlantic  House  peo 
ple,  of  the  prisoners -of -war. 

"I  don't  know,  certainly,"  one  of  the  Car 
ters  answered ;  "  but  I  suppose  he  thinks  his 
boat  can  go  faster  before  the  wind  than  the 
Wave  can,  and  he  is  counting  on  getting  a 
long  lead  on  her  before  he  turns  to  go  back. 
There  is  much  more  room  up  there,  and  the 
opportunities  for  dodging  are  about  twice  as 
good." 

"Why  didn't  we  think  of  that,  Gus?" 
whispered  the  other  Carter. 

"  We  were  too  anxious  to  show  what  smart 
sailors  we  were,  to  think  of  anything! "  an 
swered  his  brother,  ruefully. 


106  MIDSUMMER  PIRATES. 

Beyond  the  island  the  Hover  gained  rapidly ; 
but  as  soon  as  she  turned  and  began  beating 
homeward,  the  Wave  showed  that  tacking 
was  her  strong  point  and  began,  in  turn,  to 
make  up  all  the  advantage  the  Hover  had 
gained. 

The  Rover's  pirate -king  cast  a  troubled  eye 
at  the  distant  goal  and  at  the  slowly  but 
steadily  advancing  Wave. 

His  younger  brother  noticed  the  look. 

"If  one  could  only  do  something,"  he  ex 
claimed,  impatiently.  "  That's  the  worst  of 
sailing  races.  In  a  rowing  race  you  can  pull 
till  you  break  your  back,  if  you  want  to; 
but  here  you  must  just  sit  still  and  watch 
the  other  fellow  creep  up,  inch  by  inch,  with 
out  doing  anything  to  help  yourself.  If  I 
could  only  get  out  and  push,  or  pole !  It's 
this  trying  to  keep  still  that  drives  me  crazy. ' ' 

"I  think  we'd  better  go  about  now,"  said 
the  commander,  quietly,  "and  instead  of 
going  about  again  when  we  are  off  the  bar, 
I  intend  to  try  to  cross  it." 

"What!"  gasped  the  younger  Prescott, 
"go  across  the  bar  at  low  water?  You  can't 
do  it.  We'll  stick  sure.  Don't  try  it. 
Don't  think  of  it!" 


MIDSUMMER  PIRATES.  107 

"It  is  rather  a  forlorn  hope,  I  know,"  said 
his  brother;  "but  you  can  see,  yourself, 
they're  bound  to  overhaul  us  if  we  keep  on 
—  we  don't  draw  as  much  water  as  they  do, 
and  if  they  try  to  follow  us  we'll  leave  them 
high  and  dry  on  the  bar. ' ' 

The  island  stood  in  the  centre  of  the  river, 
separated  from  the  shore  on  one  side  by  the 
channel,  through  which  both  boats  had 
already  passed,  and  on  the  other  by  a  nar 
row  stretch  of  water  which  barely  covered 
the  bar  the  Hover  purposed  to  cross. 

When  she  pointed  for  it,  the  Wave  promptly 
gave  up  chasing  her,  and  made  for  the  channel 
with  the  intention  of  heading  her  off  on  the 
other  side  of  the  island  in  the  event  of  her 
crossing  the  bar. 

"She's  turned  back!"  exclaimed  the  cap 
tain  of  the  Hover.  "Now  if  we  can  only 
clear  it,  we'll  have  a  beautiful  start  on  her. 
Sit  perfectly  still,  and  if  you  hear  her  cen 
tre-board  scrape,  pull  it  up,  and  trim  her  to 
keep  her  keel  level." 

Slowly  the  Hover  drifted  toward  the  bar ; 
once  her  centre-board  touched,  and  as  the 
boat  moved  further  into  the  shallow  water  the 
waves  rose  higher  in  proportion  at  the  stern. 


108  MIDSUMMER  PIRATES. 

But  her  keel  did  not  touch,  and  as  soon  as 
the  dark  water  showed  again,  her  crew  gave 
an  exultant  shout  and  pointed  her  bow  toward 
the  Chadwick  dock,  whence  a  welcoming  cheer 
came  faintly  over  the  mile  of  water. 

"I'll  bet  they  didn't  cheer  much  when  we 
were  crossing  the  bar!"  said  the  younger 
brother,  with  a  grim  chuckle.  "  I'll  bet  they 
thought  we  were  mighty  foolish." 

"We  couldn't  have  done  anything  else," 
returned  the  superior  officer.  "  It  was  risky, 
though.  If  we'd  moved  an  inch  she  would 
have  grounded,  sure." 

"  I  was  scared  so  stiff  that  I  couldn't  have 
moved  if  I'd  tried  to,"  testified  the  younger 
sailor,  with  cheerful  frankness. 

Meanwhile  the  wind  had  freshened,  and 
white  caps  began  to  show  over  the  roughened 
surface  of  the  river,  while  sharp,  ugly  flaws 
struck  the  sails  of  the  two  contesting  boats 
from  all  directions,  making  them  bow  before 
the  sudden  gusts  of  wind  until  the  water 
poured  over  the  sides. 

But  the  sharpness  of  the  wind  made  the 
racing  only  more  exciting,  and  such  a  series 
of  manoeuvres  as  followed,  and  such  a  naval 
battle,  was  never  before  seen  on  the  Manas- 
quan  River. 


MIDSUMMER  PIRATES.  109 

The  boys  handled  their  boats  like  veterans, 
and  the  boats  answered  every  movement  of 
the  rudders  and  shortening  of  the  sails  as  a 
thoroughbred  horse  obeys  its  bridle.  They 
ducked  and  dodged,  turned  and  followed  in 
pursuit,  now  going  free  before  the  wind,  now 
racing,  close-hauled,  into  the  teeth  of  it. 
Several  times  a  capture  seemed  inevitable, 
but  a  quick  turn  of  the  tiller  would  send  the 
pirates  out  of  danger.  And,  as  many  times, 
the  pirate  crew  almost  succeeded  in  crossing 
the  line,  but  before  they  could  reach  it  the 
revenue  cutter  would  sweep  down  upon  them 
and  frighten  them  away  again. 

"  We  can't  keep  this  up  much  longer,"  said 
the  elder  Prescott.  "There's  more  water  in 
the  boat  now  than  is  safe ;  and  every  time  we 
go  about,  we  ship  three  or  four  bucketfuls 


more." 


As  he  spoke,  a  heavy  flaw  keeled  the  boat 
over  again,  and,  before  her  crew  could  right 
her,  the  water  came  pouring  over  the  side 
with  the  steadiness  of  a  small  waterfall. 
"That  settles  it  for  us,"  exclaimed  Prescott, 
grimly;  "we  must  pass  the  line  on  this  tack, 
or  we  sink." 

"They're  as  badly  off  as  we  are,"  returned 


110  MIDSUMMER  PIRATES. 

his  brother.  "  See  how  she's  wobbling  —  but 
she's  gaining  on  us,  just  the  same, "  he  added. 

"Keep  her  to  it,  then,"  said  the  man  at 
the  helm.  "  Hold  on  to  that  sheet,  no  mat 
ter  how  much  water  she  ships." 

"  If  I  don't  let  it  out  a  little,  she'll  sink!  " 

"Let  her  sink,  then,"  growled  the  chief 
officer.  "I'd  rather  upset  than  be  caught." 

The  people  on  the  shore  and  on  the  judges' 
boat  appreciated  the  situation  fully  as  well 
as  the  racers.  They  had  seen,  for  some  time, 
how  slowly  the  boats  responded  to  their  rud 
ders  and  how  deeply  they  were  sunk  in  the 
water. 

All  the  manoeuvring  for  the  past  ten 
minutes  had  been  off  the  Chadwick  dock, 
and  the  Atlantic  House  people,  in  order  to 
get  a  better  view  of  the  finish,  were  racing 
along  the  bank  on  foot  and  in  carriages, 
cheering  their  champions  as  they  came. 

The  Hover  was  pointed  to  cross  an  imagi 
nary  line  between  the  judges'  steam-launch 
and  Chadwick's  dock.  Behind  her,  not  three 
boat-lengths  in  the  rear,  so  close  that  her 
wash  impeded  their  headway,  came  the  reve 
nue  officers,  their  white  caps  gone,  their  hair 
flying  in  the  wind,  and  every  muscle  strained. 


MIDSUMMER  PIRATES.  Ill 

Both  crews  were  hanging  far  over  the  sides 
of  the  boats,  while  each  wave  washed  the 
water  into  the  already  half -filled  cockpits. 

"  Look  out ! ' '  shouted  the  younger  Pres- 
cott,  "here  comes  another  flaw!" 

"Don't  let  that  sail  out!"  shouted  back 
his  brother,  and  as  the  full  force  of  the  flaw 
struck  her,  the  boat's  rail  buried  itself  in  the 
water  and  her  sail  swept  along  the  surface  of 
the  river. 

For  an  instant  it  looked  as  if  the  boat  was 
swamped,  but  as  the  force  of  the  flaw  passed 
over  her,  she  slowly  righted  again,  and  with 
her  sail  dripping  and  heavy,  and  rolling  like 
a  log,  she  plunged  forward  on  her  way  to  the 
goal. 

When  the  flaw  struck  the  Wave,  her  crew 
let  their  sheet  go  free,  saving  themselves 
the  inundation  of  water  which  had  almost 
swamped  the  Hover,  but  losing  the  headway, 
which  the  Rover  had  kept. 

Before  the  Wave  regained  it,  the  pirate 
craft  had  increased  her  lead,  though  it  was 
only  for  a  moment. 

"We  can't  make  it,"  shouted  the  younger 
Prescott,  turning  his  face  toward  his  brother 
so  that  the  wind  might  not  drown  his  voice. 


112  MIDSUMMER  PIRATES. 

"  They're  almost  upon  us,  and  we're  settling 
fast." 

"  So  are  they, ' '  shouted  his  brother.  "  We 
can't  be  far  from  the  line  now,  and  as  soon 
as  we  cross  that,  it  doesn't  matter  what  hap 
pens  to  us!  " 

As  he  spoke  another  heavy  gust  of  wind 
came  sweeping  toward  them,  turning  the 
surface  of  the  river  dark  blue  as  it  passed 
over,  and  flattening  out  the  waves. 

"Look  at  that!  "  groaned  the  pirate-king, 
"we're  gone  now,  surely!  "  But  before  the 
flaw  reached  them,  and  almost  before  the 
prophetic  words  were  uttered,  the  cannon  on 
the  judges'  boat  banged  forth  merrily,  and 
the  crowds  on  the  Chadwick  dock  answered 
its  signal  with  an  unearthly  yell  of  triumph. 
"We're  across,  we're  across!  "  shouted  the 
younger  Prescott,  jumping  up  to  Jiis  knees 
in  the  water  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat  and 
letting  the  wet  sheet-rope  run  freely  through 
his  blistered  fingers. 

But  the  movement  was  an  unfortunate  one. 

The   flaw  struck  the  boat  with  her  heavy 

sail  dragging  in  the  water,  and  with  young 

Prescott's    weight   removed   from    the   rail. 

She  reeled  under  the  gust  as  a  tree  bows  in 


I 


MIDSUMMER   PIRATES.  113 

a  storm,  bent  gracefully  before  it,  and  then 
turned  over  slowly  on  her  side. 

The  next  instant  the  Wave  swept  by  her, 
and  as  the  two  Prescotts  scrambled  up  on 
the  gunwale  of  their  boat,  the  defeated  crew 
saluted  them  with  cheers,  in  response  to 
which  the  victors  bowed  as  gracefully  as 
their  uncertain  position  would  permit. 

The  new  arrival,  who  had  come  to  Manas- 
quan  in  the  hope  of  finding  something  to 
shoot,  stood  among  the  people  on  the  bank 
and  discharged  his  gun  until  the  barrels  were 
so  hot  that  he  had  to  lay  the  gun  down  to 
cool.  And  every  other  man  and  boy  who 
owned  a  gun  or  pistol  of  any  sort,  fired  it  off 
and  yelled  at  the  same  time,  as  if  the  contents 
of  the  gun  or  pistol  had  entered  his  own  body. 
Unfortunately,  every  boat  possessed  a  tin 
horn  with  which  the  helmsman  was  wont  to 
signal  the  keeper  of  the  drawbridge.  One 
evil-minded  captain  blew  a  blast  of  triumph 
on  his  horn,  and  in  a  minute's  time  the  air 
was  rent  with  tootings  as  vicious  as  those 
of  the  steam  whistle  of  a  locomotive. 

The  Wave  just  succeeded  in  reaching  the 
dock  before  she  settled  and  sank.  A  dozen 
of  Chadwick's  boarders  seized  the  crew  by 


114  MIDSUMMER   PIRATES. 

their  coat  collars  and  arms,  as  they  leaped 
from  the  sinking  boat  to  the  pier,  and  assisted 
them  to  their  feet,  forgetful  in  the  excite 
ment  of  the  moment  that  the  sailors  were 
already  as  wet  as  sponges  on  their  native 
rocks. 

"  I  suppose  I  should  have  stuck  to  my  ship 
as  Prescott  did,"  said  the  captain  of  the 
Wave  with  a  smile,  pointing  to  where  the 
judges'  boat  was  towing  in  the  Hover  with 
her  crew  still  clinging  to  her  side;  "but  I'd 
already  thrown  you  my  rope,  you  know,  and 
there  really  isn't  anything  heroic  in  sticking 
to  a  sinking  ship  when  she  goes  down  in  two 
feet  of  water." 

As  soon  as  the  Prescotts  reached  the  pier, 
they  pushed  their  way  to  their  late  rivals  and 
shook  them  heartily  by  their  hands.  Then 
the  Atlantic  House  people  carried  their  crew 
around  on  their  shoulders,  and  the  two  Chad- 
wick's  crews  were  honored  in  the  same  em 
barrassing  manner.  The  proprietor  of  the 
Atlantic  House  invited  the  entire  Chadwick 
establishment  over  to  a  dance  and  a  late  sup 
per. 

"I  prepared  it  for  the  victors,"  he  said, 
"and  though  these  victors  don't  happen  to 


MIDSUMMER  PIRATES.  115 

be  the  ones  I  prepared  it  for,  the  victors  must 
eat  it." 

The  sun  had  gone  down  for  over  half  an 
hour  before  the  boats  and  carriages  had  left 
the  Chadwick  dock,  and  the  Chadwick  people 
had  an  opportunity  to  rush  home  to  dress. 
They  put  on  their  very  best  clothes,  "  just  to 
show  the  Atlantic  people  that  they  had  some 
thing  else  besides  flannels,"  and  danced  in 
the  big  hall  of  the  Atlantic  House  until  late 
in  the  evening. 

When  the  supper  was  served,  the  victors 
were  toasted  and  cheered  and  presented  with 
a  beautiful  set  of  colors,  and  then  Judge 
Carter  made  a  stirring  speech. 

He  went  over  the  history  of  the  rival  houses 
in  a  way  that  pleased  everybody,  and  made 
all  the  people  at  the  table  feel  ashamed  of 
themselves  for  ever  having  been  rivals  at  all. 

He  pointed  out  in  courtly  phrases  how  ex 
cellent  and  varied  were  the  modern  features 
of  the  Atlantic  House,  and  yet  how  healthful 
and  satisfying  was  the  old-fashioned  simplic 
ity  of  Chadwick's.  He  expressed  the  hope 
that  the  two  houses  would  learn  to  appreciate 
each  other's  virtues,  and  hoped  that  in  the 
future  they  would  see  more  of  each  other. 


116  MIDSUMMER   PIRATES. 

To  which  sentiment  everybody  assented 
most  noisily  and  enthusiastically,  and  the 
proprietor  of  the  Atlantic  House  said  that, 
in  his  opinion,  Judge  Carter's  speech  was 
one  of  the  finest  he  had  ever  listened  to,  and 
he  considered  that  part  of  it  which  touched 
on  the  excellent  attractions  of  the  Atlantic 
House  as  simply  sublime,  and  that,  with  his 
Honor's  permission,  he  intended  to  use  it  in 
his  advertisements  and  circulars,  with  Judge 
Carter's  name  attached. 


RICHARD    CARE'S   BABY. 


A  FEW  years  ago,  all  the  boys  living  in 
the  town  of  Princeton  who  were  at  that  age 
when  it  is  easy  to  remember  the  fall,  winter, 
spring,  and  summer  as  the  foot-ball,  coast 
ing,  swimming,  and  base-ball  seasons,  re 
garded  Richard  Carr  as  embodying  their 
ideal  of  human  greatness. 

When  they  read  in  the  history  primers  how 
George  Washington  became  the  Father  of  his 
Country,  they  felt  sure  that  with  a  like  oppor 
tunity  Richard  Carr  would  come  to  the  front 
and  be  the  stepfather  of  his  country  at  least. 

They  lay  in  wait  for  him  at  the  post-office, 
and  as  soon  as  he  came  in  sight,  would  ask 
for  his  mail  and  run  to  give  it  to  him ;  they 
would  go  ahead  of  him  on  the  other  side  of 
the  street,  and  cross  over  and  meet  him  with  a 
very  important  "  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Carr  ?  ' ' 
and  were  quite  satisfied  if  he  gave  them  an 
amused  "  Hello !  "  in  return. 

117 


118  KICHAED   CARE'S  BABY. 

They  hung  photographs  of  him  and  the 
woodcuts  from  the  daily  papers  around  their 
rooms,  and  their  efforts  to  imitate  his  straight, 
military  walk,  with  shoulders  squared  and 
head  erect,  were  of  great  benefit  to  their 
lungs  and  personal  appearance. 

Those  ragged  hangers-on  of  the  college, 
too,  who  picked  up  odd  dimes  from  the 
students,  by  carrying  baggage  and  chasing 
tennis  balls,  waited  on  Richard  Carr,  and 
shouted  "Hurrah  for  you,  Carr!  "  whenever 
that  worthy  walked  by. 

Those  who  have  not  already  guessed  the 
position  which  Richard  Carr  held  in  the  col 
lege  will  be  surprised  to  learn  that  he  was 
captain  of  the  college  foot-ball  team,  and 
those  who  cannot  understand  the  admiration 
that  Arthur  Waller,  and  Willie  Beck,  and 
the  rest  of  the  small  fry  of  Princeton  felt  for 
this  young  man  would  better  stop  here  —  for 
neither  will  they  understand  this  story. 

Among  all  these  young  hero-worshippers, 
Richard  Carr's  most  devoted  follower  was 
Arthur  Waller  —  for,  while  the  other  boys, 
looking  upon  Carr  as  their  ideal,  hoped  in 
time  that  they  might  themselves  be  even  as 
great  as  he,  Arthur  felt  that  to  him,  this 


RICHARD   CARRES  BABY.  119 

glorious  possibility  must  be  denied.  Arthur 
was  neither  strong  nor  sturdy,  and  could,  he 
knew,  never  hope  to  be  like  the  captain  of 
the  foot-ball  team,  whose  strength  and  phy 
sique  seemed,  for  this  reason,  all  the  grander 
to  him. 

He  never  ran  after  Carr,  nor  tried  to  draw 
his  attention  as  the  others  did;  he  was  con 
tent  to  watch  and  form  his  own  ideas  about 
his  hero  from  a  distance.  Richard  Carr  was 
more  than  the  captain  of  the  team  to  him. 
He  was  the  one  person  who,  above  all  others, 
had  that  which  Arthur  lacked  —  strength; 
and  so  Arthur  did  not  merely  envy  him,  —  he 
worshipped  him. 

Although  Arthur  Waller  was  somewhat 
older  in  his  way  of  thinking  than  his  friends, 
he  enjoyed  the  same  games  they  enjoyed,  and 
would  have  liked  to  play  them,  if  he  had 
been  able;  but,  as  he  was  not,  the  boys 
usually  asked  him  to  keep  the  score,  or  to 
referee  the  matches  they  played  on  the  cow 
pasture  with  one  of  the  college's  cast-off 
foot-balls.  On  the  whole,  the  boys  were 
very  good  to  Arthur. 

It  was  the  first  part  of  the  last  half  of  the 
Yale-Princeton  foot-ball  match,  played  on  the 


120  BICHABD   CASE'S  BABY. 

Princeton  grounds.  The  modest  grand  stand 
was  filled  with  young  ladies  and  college  boys, 
while  all  the  townspeople  covered  the  fences 
and  carriages,  and  crowded  closely  on  the 
whitewashed  lines,  cheering  and  howling  at 
the  twenty-two  very  dirty,  very  determined, 
and  very  cool  young  men  who  ran,  rushed, 
dodged,  and  "tackled"  in  the  open  space 
before  them,  —  the  most  interested  and  least 
excited  individuals  on  the  grounds. 

Arthur  Waller  had  crept  between  the  spec 
tators  until  he  had  reached  the  very  front  of 
the  crowd,  and  had  stood  through  the  first 
half  of  the  game  with  bated  breath,  his  fin 
ger-nails  pressed  into  his  palms,  and  his  eyes 
following  only  one  of  the  players.  He  was 
entirely  too  much  excited  to  shout  or  call  as 
the  others  did ;  and  he  was  perfectly  silent 
except  for  the  little  gasps  of  fear  he  gave 
involuntarily  when  Richard  Carr  struck  the 
ground  with  more  than  the  usual  number  of 
men  on  top  of  him. 

Suddenly,  Mr.  Hobbes,  of  Yale,  kicked  the 
ball,  but  kicked  it  sideways ;  and  so,  instead 
of  going  straight  down  the  field,  it  turned 
and  whirled  over  the  heads  of  the  crowd 
and  settled  among  the  carriages.  A  panting 


RICHARD   CARR'S  BABY.  121 

little  Yale  man  tore  wildly  after  it,  beseech 
ing  Mr.  Hobbes,  in  agonizing  tones,  to  put 
him  "on  side."  Mr.  Hobbes  ran  past  the 
spot  where  the  ball  would  strike,  and  the 
Yale  man  dashed  after  it  through  the  crowd. 
Behind  him,  his  hair  flying,  his  eyes  fixed  on 
the  ball  over  his  head,  every  muscle  on  a  strain, 
came  Richard  Carr.  He  went  at  the  people 
blindly,  and  they  tumbled  over  one  another 
like  a  flock  of  sheep,  in  their  efforts  to  clear 
the  way  for  him.  With  his  head  in  the  air,  he 
did  not  see  Arthur  striving  to  get  out  of  his 
way ;  he  only  heard  a  faint  cry  of  pain  when 
he  stumbled  for  an  instant,  and,  looking 
back,  saw  the  crowd  closing  around  a  little 
boy  who  was  lying  very  still  and  white,  but 
who  was  not  crying.  Richard  Carr  stopped 
as  he  ran  back,  and  setting  Arthur  on  his 
feet,  asked,  "Are  you  hurt,  youngster?" 
But,  as  Arthur  only  stared  at  him  and  said 
nothing,  the  champion  hurried  on  again  into 
the  midst  of  the  fray. 

"  There  is  one  thing  we  must  have  before 
the  next  match,"  said  the  manager  of  the 
team,  as  the  players  were  gathered  in  the 
dressing-rooms  after  the  game,  "and  that  is 


122  EICHAED   CARE'S  BABY. 

a  rope  to  keep  the  people  back.  They  will 
crowd  on  the  field,  and  get  in  the  way  of  the 
half-backs,  and,  besides,  it  is  not  safe  for 
them  to  stand  so  near.  Carr  knocked  over  a 
little  boy  this  afternoon,  and  hurt  him  quite 
badly,  I  believe." 

"What's  that?"  said  Richard  Carr,  turn 
ing  from  the  group  of  substitutes  who  were 
explaining  how  they  would  have  played  the 
game  and  tendering  congratulations. 

"I  was  saying,"  continued  the  manager, 
"  that  we  ought  to  have  a  rope  to  keep  the 
people  off  the  field;  they  interfere  with  the 
game;  and  they  say  that  you  hurt  a  little 
fellow  when  you  ran  into  the  crowd  during 
the  last  half." 

"  Those  boys  shouldn't  be  allowed  to  stand 
in  front  there,"  said  Richard  Carr;  "but  I 
didn't  know  I  hurt  him.  Who  was  he  ?  where 
does  he  live  ?  Do  you  know  ?  " 

"It  was  the  widow  Waller's  son,  sir," 
volunteered  Sam,  the  colored  attendant. 
"That's  her  house  with  the  trees  around  it; 
you  can  see  the  roof  from  here.  I  think 
that's  where  they  took  him." 

"Took  him!"  exclaimed  Richard  Carr, 
catching  up  his  great-coat.  "Was  he  so 


RICHARD   CARE'S  BABY.  123 

badly  hurt?  You  wait  until  I  come  back, 
Sam." 

A  pale,  gentle-faced  woman,  who  looked 
as  if  she  had  been  crying,  came  to  the  door 
when  Richard  Carr  rang  the  bell  of  the  cot 
tage  which  had  been  pointed  out  to  him  from 
the  athletic  grounds.  When  she  saw  his 
foot-ball  costume,  the  look  of  welcome  on 
her  face  died  out  very  suddenly. 

"Does  the  little  boy  live  here  who  was 
hurt  on  the  athletic  grounds  ?  "  asked  Richard 
Carr,  wondering  if  it  could  have  been  the  doc 
tor  she  was  expecting. 

"Yes,  sir,"  answered  the  lady,  coldly. 

"  I  came  to  see  how  he  was ;  I  am  the  man 
who  ran  against  him.  I  wish  to  explain  to 
you  how  it  happened  —  I  suppose  you  are 
Mrs.  Waller?"  (Richard  Carr  hesitated, 
and  bowed,  but  the  lady  only  bowed  her  head 
in  return,  and  said  nothing.)  "It  was  ac 
cidental,  of  course,"  continued  Carr.  "He 
was  in  the  crowd  when  I  ran  in  after  the 
ball;  it  was  flying  over  our  heads,  and  I  was 
looking  up  at  it  and  didn't  see  him.  I  hope 
he  is  all  right  now."  Before  the  lady  could 
answer,  Richard  Carr's  eyes  wandered  from 
her  face  and  caught  sight  of  a  little  figure 


124  RICHARD   CARR'S  BABY. 

lying  on  a  sofa  in  the  wide  hall.  Stepping 
across  the  -  floor  as  lightly  as  he  could  in  his 
heavy  shoes,  Carr  sat  down  beside  Arthur  on 
the  sofa.  "Well,  old  man,"  he  said,  taking 
Arthur's  hands  in  his,  "I  hope  I  didn't  hurt 
you  much.  No  bones  broken,  —  are  there  ? 
You  were  very  plucky  not  to  cry.  It  was  a 
very  hard  fall,  and  I'm  very,  very  sorry;  but 
I  didn't  see  you,  you  know." 

"Oh,  no,  sir,"  said  Arthur,  quickly,  with 
his  eyes  fixed  on  Richard  Carr's  face.  "I 
knew  you  didn't  see  me,  and  I  thought  maybe 
you  would  come  when  you  heard  I  was  hurt. 
I  don't  mind  it  a  bit,  from  you.  Because 
Willie  Beck  says  —  he  is  the  captain  of  our 
team,  you  know  —  that  you  wouldn't  hurt  any 
one  if  you  could  help  it;  he  says  you  never 
hit  a  man  on  the  field  unless  he's  playing 
foul  or  trying  to  hurt  some  of  your  team." 

Richard  Carr  doubted  whether  this  recital 
of  his  virtues  would  appeal  as  strongly  to 
Mrs.  Waller  as  it  did  to  Arthur,  so  he  said, 
"And  who  is  Willie  Beck?" 

"Willie  Beck!  Why,  don't  you  know 
Willie  Beck  ? "  exclaimed  Arthur,  who  was 
rapidly  losing  his  awe  of  Richard  Carr.  "  He 
says  he  knows  you;  he  is  the  boy  who 


RICHARD   CARR'S  BABY.  125 

holds  your  coat  for  you  during  the  practice 
games." 

Richard  Carr  saw  he  was  running  a  risk  of 
hurting  some  young  admirer's  feelings,  so 
he  said,  "Oh,  yes,  the  boy  who  holds  my 
coat  for  me.  And  he  is  the  captain  of  your 
team,  is  he  ?  Well,  the  next  time  you  play, 
you  wear  this  cap  and  tell  Willie  Beck  and 
the  rest  of  the  boys  that  I  gave  it  to  you 
because  you  were  so  plucky  when  I  knocked 
you  down." 

With  these  words  he  pressed  his  orange 
and  black  cap  into  Arthur's  hand  and  rose  to 
go,  but  Arthur  looked  so  wistfully  at  him, 
and  then  at  the  captain's  cap,  that  he  stopped. 

"I'd  like  to  wear  it,  Mr.  Carr,"  he  said 
slowly.  "I'd  like  to,  ever  so  much,  Mam 
ma,"  he  added,  turning  his  eyes  to  where 
Mrs.  Waller  stood  looking  out  at  the  twi 
light  and  weeping  softly, — "but  you  see, 
sir,  I  don't  play  myself.  I  generally  referee. 
I'm  not  very  strong,  sir,  not  at  present;  but 
I  will  be  some  day, — won't  I,  Mamma? 
And  the  doctor  says  I  must  keep  quiet  until 
I  am  older,  and  not  play  games  that  are 
rough.  For  he  says  if  I  got  a  shock  or  a  fall 
I  might  not  get  over  it,  or  it  might  put  me 


126  RICHARD   CARR'S  BABY. 

back  —  and  I  do  so  want  to  get  well  just 
as  soon  as  I  can.  You  see,  sir,  it's  my 
spine  — 

Richard  Carr  gave  a  sharp  gasp  of  pain 
and  dropped  on  his  knees  beside  the  sofa, 
and  buried  his  face  beside  the  boy's  on  the 
pillow,  with  his  arms  thrown  tightly  around 
his  shoulder. 

For  a  moment  Arthur  looked  at  him  startled 
and  distressed,  and  patted  Richard  Carr's 
broad  back  to  comfort  him;  and  then  he 
cried : 

"  Oh,  but  I  didn't  mean  to  blame  you,  Mr. 
Carr!  I  know  you  didn't  see  me.  Don't 
you  worry  about  me,  Mr.  Carr.  I'm  going 
to  get  well  some  day.  Indeed  I  am,  sir!  " 

Whether  it  was  that  the  surgeon  whom 
Richard  Carr's  father  sent  on  from  New 
York  knew  more  about  Arthur's  trouble  than 
the  other  doctors  did,  or  whether  it  was  that 
Richard  Carr  saw  that  Arthur  had  many 
medicines,  pleasant  and  unpleasant,  which 
his  mother  had  been  unable  to  get  for  him, 
I  do  not  know,  — but  I  do  know  that  Arthur 
got  better  day  by  day. 

And  day  after  day,  Richard  Carr  stopped 


RICHARD   CARE'S  BABY.  127 

on  his  way  to  the  field,  and  on  his  way  back 
again,  to  see  his  "Baby,"  as  he  called  him, 
and  to  answer  the  numerous  questions  put  to 
him  by  Arthur's  companions.  They  always 
assembled  at  the  hour  of  Richard  Carr's  ar 
rival  in  order  to  share  some  of  the  glory  that 
had  fallen  on  their  comrade,  and  to  cherish 
and  carry  away  whatever  precious  thoughts 
Richard  Carr  might  let  drop  concerning  foot 
ball,  or  the  weather,  or  any  other  vital  topic 
on  which  his  opinion  was  decisive. 

As  soon  as  the  doctor  said  Arthur  could 
be  moved,  Richard  Carr  used  to  stop  for  him 
in  a  two-seated  carriage  and  drive  him  in 
state  to  the  foot-ball  field.  And  after  he  had 
drawn  up  the  carriage  where  Arthur  could 
get  a  good  view  of  the  game,  he  would  hand 
over  the  reins  to  one  of  those  vulture-like 
individuals  who  hover  around  the  field  of 
battle,  waiting  for  some  one  to  be  hurt,  and 
who  are  known  as  "substitutes."  In  his 
orange  and  black  uniform,  one  of  these 
fellows  made  a  very  gorgeous  coachman  in 
deed. 

And  though  the  students  might  yell,  and 
the  townspeople  shout  ever  so  loudly,  Richard 
Carr  only  heard  one  shrill  little  voice,  which 


128  RICHARD  CARR'S  BABY. 

called  to  him  above  all  the  others;  and  as 
that  voice  got  stronger  day  by  day,  Richard 
Carr  got  back  his  old  spirit  and  interest  in 
the  game,  which,  since  the  Yale  match,  he 
seemed  to  have  lost. 

The  team  said  Richard  Carr's  "Baby" 
brought  them  luck,  and  they  called  him  their 
"Mascot,"  and  presented  him  with  a  flag  of 
the  college  colors;  and  when  the  weather 
grew  colder  they  used  to  smother  him  in 
their  white  woollen  jerseys,  so  that  he  looked 
like  a  fat  polar  bear. 

It  was  a  very  pretty  sight,  indeed,  to  see 
how  Richard  Carr  and  the  rest  of  the  team, 
whenever  they  had  scored  or  had  made  a  good 
play,  would  turn  first  for  their  commendation 
to  where  Arthur  sat  perched  above  the  crowd, 
waving  his  flag,  his  cheeks  all  aglow,  and 
the  substitute's  arm  around  him  to  keep  him 
from  falling  over  in  his  excitement.  And 
the  other  teams  who  came  to  play  at  Prince 
ton  soon  learned  about  the  captain's  "  Baby," 
and  inquired  if  he  were  on  the  field;  and  if 
he  was,  they  would  go  up  and  gravely  shake 
hands  with  him,  as  with  some  celebrated  in 
dividual  holding  a  public  reception. 

Richard  Carr  is  out  West  now  at  the  head 


EICHAED   CARE'S  BABY.  129 

of  a  great  sheep  ranch,  and  Arthur  Waller 
enters  Princeton  next  year.  I  do  not  know 
whether  he  will  be  on  the  team,  though  he  is 
strong  enough;  but  I  am  sure  he  will  help 
to  hand  down  the  fame  of  Richard  Carr,  and 
that  he  will  do  it  in  such  a  way  that  his 
hero  will  be  remembered  as  the  possessor  of 
certain  qualities,  perhaps  not  so  highly 
prized,  but  almost  as  excellent,  as  were  those 
which  fitted  him  to  be  captain  of  the  team. 


THE  GREAT  TRI-CLUB  TENNIS 
TOURNAMENT. 


CHAKLES  COLEBIDGB  GEACE,  as  he  was 
called  by  the  sporting  editors,  or  Charley 
Grace,  as  he  was  known  about  college,  had 
held  the  tennis  championship  of  his  Alma 
Mater  ever  since  he  had  been  a  freshman. 

Even  before  that  eventful  year  he  had  car 
ried  off  so  many  silver  cups  and  highly  orna 
mented  racquets  at  the  different  tournaments 
all  over  the  country,  that  his  entering  college 
was  quite  as  important  an  event  to  the  col 
lege  as  it  was  to  Charles. 

His  career  was  not  marked  by  the  winning 
of  any  scholarships,  nor  by  any  brazen  prom 
inence  in  the  way  of  first  honors ;  and  though 
the  president  may  have  wondered  at  the  fre 
quency  of  his  applications  to  attend  funerals, 
marriages,  and  the  family  dentist,  he  was  al 
ways  careful  to  look  the  other  way  when  he 
met  him  hurrying  to  the  station  with  three 
130 


THE  GEE  AT  TEI-CLUB  TOURNAMENT.     131 

/acquets  in  one  hand  and  a  travelling  bag  in 
the  other. 

Nor  was  he  greatly  surprised  to  read  in  the 
next  morning's  paper  that  "  this  brought  the 
winner  of  the  last  set  and  Charles  Coleridge 
Grace  together  in  the  finals,  which  were  won 
by  Mr.  Grace,  6-4,  6-4,  6-2." 

It  was  near  the  end  of  the  first  term  in 
Grace's  junior  year,  and  at  the  time  when 
the  dates  of  tournaments  and  examinations 
were  hopelessly  clashing,  that  he  received 
another  of  many  invitations  to  attend  an  open 
tournament.  This  particular  circular  an 
nounced  that  the  N.  L.  T.  A.  of  the  United 
States  had  given  the  Hilltown  Tennis  Club 
permission  to  hold  on  their  own  grounds  a 
tournament  for  the  championship  of  the 
State. 

Mr.  Grace  was  cordially  invited  to  parti 
cipate,  not  only  through  the  formal  wording 
of  the  circular,  but  in  a  note  of  somewhat 
extravagant  courtesy  signed  by  the  club's 
secretary. 

Hilltown  is  a  very  pretty  place,  and  some 
of  its  people  are  very  wealthy.  They  see  that 
it  has  good  roads  for  their  village-carts  and 
landaus  to  roll  over,  and  their  Queen  Anne 


132  THE  GREAT  TEI-CLUB 

cottages  are  distinctly  ornamental  to  the  sur 
rounding  landscape. 

They  have  also  laid  out  and  inclosed  eight 
tennis-courts  of  both  clay  and  turf,  to  suit 
every  one's  taste,  and  have  erected  a  club 
house  which  is  apparently  fashioned  after  no 
one's.  Every  year  Hilltown  invited  the 
neighboring  tennis-clubs  of  Malvern  and 
Pineville  to  compete  with  them  in  an  inter- 
club  tournament,  and  offered  handsome  prizes 
which  were  invariably  won  by  representatives 
of  Hilltown. 

But  this  year,  owing  chiefly  to  the  ener 
gies  of  Mr.  C.  Percy  Clay,  the  club's  enthu 
siastic  secretary,  Hilltown  had  been  allowed 
to  hold  a  tournament  on  its  own  tennis -ground 
for  the  double  and  single  championship  of  the 
State.  This  honor  necessitated  the  postpone 
ment  of  the  annual  tri-club  meeting  until  ten 
days  after  the  championship  games  had  been 
played. 

The  team  who  did  the  playing  for  the  Hill- 
town  club  were  two  young  men  locally  known 
as  the  Slade  brothers. 

They  were  not  popular,  owing  to  their 
assuming  an  air  of  superiority  over  every  one 
in  the  town,  from  their  father  down  to  C. 


TENNIS   TOURNAMENT.  133 

Percy  Clay.  But  as  they  had  won  every  prize 
of  which  the  tennis-club  could  boast,  they  of 
necessity  enjoyed  a  prominence  which  their 
personal  conduct  alone  could  not  have  gained 
for  them. 

Charles  Grace  arrived  at  Hilltown  one 
Wednesday  morning.  All  but  the  final 
game  of  the  doubles  had  been  played  off  on 
the  two  days  previous,  and  the  singles  were 
to  be  begun  and  completed  that  afternoon. 
The  grounds  were  well  filled  when  he  reached 
them,  and  looked  as  pretty  as  only  pretty 
tennis-grounds  can  look  when  they  are  gay 
with  well-dressed  girls,  wonderfully  bright 
blazers,  and  marquees  of  vividly  brilliant 
stripes. 

Grace  found  the  list  of  entries  to  the  singles 
posted  up  in  the  club-house,  and  discovered 
that  they  were  few  in  number,  and  that  there 
was  among  them  only  one  name  that  was 
familiar  to  him. 

As  he  turned  away  from  the  list,  two  very 
young  and  bright-faced  boys,  in  very  well- 
worn  flannels,  came  up  the  steps  of  the  club 
house  just  as  one  of  the  Slades  was  leaving 
it. 

"Hullo,"  said  Slade,  "you  back  again?" 


134  THE  GREAT  TRI-CLUB 

It  was  such  an  unusual  and  impertinent 
welcome  that  Grace  paused  in  some  surprise 
and  turned  to  listen. 

The  eldest  of  the  boys  laughed  good- 
naturedly  and  said:  "Yes,  we're  here,  Mr. 
Slade.  You  know  we  drew  a  bye,  and  so  we 
play  in  the  finals." 

"Well,  of  course  you'll  play  my  brother 
and  myself  then.  I  hope  the  novelty  of 
playing  in  the  last  round  won't  paralyze  you. 
If  it  doesn't,  we  will,"  he  added  with  a  short 
laugh.  "I  say,  Ed,"  he  continued,  turning 
to  his  elder  brother,  "here  are  Merton  and 
his  partner  come  all  the  way  from  Malvern 
to  play  in  the  finals.  They  might  have  saved 
their  car-fare,  don't  you  think?" 

The  elder  brother  scowled  at  the  unfortu 
nate  representatives  of  Malvern. 

"  You  don't  really  mean  to  make  us  stand 
out  here  in  the  hot  sun  fooling  with  you,  do 
you?"  he  asked  impatiently.  "You'll  only 
make  a  spectacle  of  yourselves.  Why  don't 
you  drop  out?  We've  beaten  you  often 
enough  before,  I  should  think,  to  suit  you, 
and  we  want  to  begin  the  singles." 

But  the  Malvern  youths  were  not  to  be 
browbeaten.  They  said  they  knew  they 


TENNIS  TOUBNAMENT.  135 

would  be  defeated,  but  that  the  people  at  Mal- 
vern  were  very  anxious  to  have  them  play, 
and  had  insisted  on  their  coming  up.  "  They 
wish  to  see  what  sort  of  a  chance  we  have  for 
the  tri-club  tournament,  next  week,"  they 
explained. 

"Well,  we'll  show  what  sort  of  chance  you 
have  with  a  vengeance,"  laughed  one  of  the 
brothers.  "But  it  really  is  hard  on  us." 

The  two  boys  flushed,  and  one  of  them 
began  hotly,  "Let  me  tell  you,  Mr.  Slade," 
—  but  the  other  put  his  hand  on  his  arm, 
saying,  "  What's  the  use  ?  "  and  pushed  him 
gently  toward  the  grounds. 

The  Slades  went  into  the  club-house  grum 
bling. 

"Nice  lot,  those  home  players,"  solilo 
quized  Grace.  "I'll  pound  the  life  out  of 
them  for  that!" 

He  was  still  more  inclined  to  revenge  the 
Malvern  youths  later,  after  their  defeat  by 
the  Slades,  —  which  was  not  such  a  bad  defeat 
after  all,  as  they  had  won  one  of  the  four  sets, 
and  scored  games  in  the  others.  But  the 
Slades,  with  complete  disregard  for  all  rules 
of  hospitality  to  say  nothing  of  the  etiquette 
of  tennis,  kept  up  a  running  comment  of  ridi- 


136  THE  GEE  AT  TEI-CLUB 

cule  and  criticism  on  their  hopeful  opponents' 
play,  and,  much  to  Grace's  disgust,  the  spec 
tators  laughed  and  encouraged  them.  The 
visitors  struggled  hard,  but  everything  was 
against  them ;  they  did  not  understand  play 
ing  as  a  team,  and  though  they  were  quick 
and  sure-eyed  enough,  and  their  service  was 
wonderfully  strong,  the  partiality  of  the 
crowd  "rattled"  them,  and  the  ridicule  of 
their  opponents  was  not  likely  to  put  them 
more  at  their  ease. 

The  man  who  had  been  asked  to  umpire 
with  Grace  was  a  college  man,  and  they  both 
had  heard  all  that  went  on  across  the  net  in 
the  final  round.  So  when  their  duties  were 
over,  they  went  up  to  the  defeated  Malvern- 
ites  and  shook  hands  with  them,  and  said 
something  kind  to  them  about  their  playing. 

But  the  cracks  did  not  congratulate  the 
winners.  Indeed,  they  were  so  disgusted 
with  the  whole  affair  that  they  refused  to  be 
lionized  by  Mr.  Clay  and  the  spectators  in 
any  way,  but  went  off  to  the  hotel  in  the 
village  for  luncheon,  —  which  desertion  ren 
dered  the  spread  on  the  grounds  as  flat  as  a 
coming-of-age  dinner  with  the  comer-of-age 
left  out. 


TENNIS   TOURNAMENT.  137 

After  luncheon,  Thatcher,  the  other  col 
legian,  had  the  pleasure  of  defeating  the 
younger  Slade  in  two  straight  sets,  to  his  own 
and  Grace's  satisfaction;  but  Mr.  Thatcher's 
satisfaction  was  somewhat  dampened  when 
Grace  polished  him  off  in  the  next  round, 
after  a  game  which  Grace  made  as  close  as  he 
could. 

Other  rounds  were  going  on  in  the  other 
courts,  and  at  five  o'clock  Grace  and  the  elder 
Slade  came  together  in  the  finals.  Thatcher 
had  gone  home  after  wishing  his  conqueror 
luck,  and  Grace  was  left  alone.  He  was  not 
pleased  to  see  that  Slade's  brother  was  to  act 
as  one  of  the  umpires,  as  he  had  noticed  that 
his  decisions  in  other  games  were  carelessly 
incorrect. 

But  he  was  in  no  way  prepared  for  what 
followed. 

For  the  younger  Slade's  umpiring  in  the 
final  game  was  even  more  efficient  in  gaining 
points  for  the  Hilltown  side  than  was  the 
elder's  playing. 

It  was  a  matter  of  principle  with  Grace,  as 
with  all  good  players,  never  to  question  an 
umpire's  decision,  and  he  had  been  taught 
the  good  old  rule  to  "  Never  kick  in  a  winning 


138  THE  GREAT  TEI-CLUB 

game."  But  the  decisions  were  so  outrageous 
that  it  soon  came  too  close  to  being  a  los 
ing  game  for  him  to  allow  them  to  continue. 
So,  finally,  after  a  decision  of  the  brother's 
had  given  Slade  the  second  one  of  the  two 
sets,  Grace  went  to  the  referee  and  asked  that 
some  one  be  appointed  to  act  in  Mr.  Blade's 
place,  as  he  did  not  seem  to  understand  or  to 
pay  proper  attention  to  the  game. 

"Mr.  Slade's  decisions  have  been  simply 
ridiculous,"  said  Grace,  "and  they  have  all 
been  against  myself.  This  may  be  due  to 
ignorance  or  carelessness,  but  in  any  case  I 
object  to  him  as  an  umpire  most  emphati 
cally." 

"Well,  you  can  object  to  him  all  you 
please,"  retorted  the  elder  brother.  "If  you 
don't  like  the  way  this  tournament  is  con 
ducted  you  can  withdraw.  You  needn't 
think  you  can  come  down  here  and  attempt 
to  run  everything  to  suit  yourself,  even  if 
you  are  a  crack  player.  Do  you  mean  to  for 
feit  the  game  or  not?" 

"It  seems  to  me,  gentlemen,"  stammered 
Mr.  Percy  Clay,  excitedly,  "  that  if  Mr.  Grace 
desires  another  umpire  —  " 

"Oh,  you  keep  out  of  this,  will  you!" 


TENNIS   TOURNAMENT.  139 

retorted  the  omnipotent  Slade,  and  Mr.  Clay 
retreated  hurriedly. 

Grace  walked  back  into  the  court,  and 
nodded  to  the  referee  that  he  was  ready  to 
go  on. 

He  was  too  angry  to  speak,  but  he  men 
tally  determined  to  beat  his  opponent  so 
badly,  umpire  or  no  umpire,  that  his  friends 
would  avoid  tennis  as  a  topic  of  conversation 
for  months  to  come. 

This  incendiary  spirit  made  him  hammer 
the  innocent  rubber  balls  to  such  purpose 
that  the  elder  Slade  was  almost  afraid  of  his 
life,  and  failed  to  return  more  than  a  dozen 
of  the  opponent's  strokes  in  the  next  two  sets. 

His  brother's  decisions  were  now  even  more 
ridiculous  than  before,  but  Grace  pretended 
not  to  notice  them. 

The  game  now  stood  two  straight  sets  in 
Grace's  favor,  and  one  set  6-5  in  Slade's  —  or 
in  favor  of  both  the  Slades,  for  they  had  both 
helped  to  win  it. 

Grace  had  four  games  love,  in  the  final  set, 
when  in  running  back  after  a  returned  ball 
he  tripped  and  fell  over  an  obstacle,  sprain 
ing  his  right  ankle  very  badly.  The  obstacle 
proved  to  be  the  leg  of  one  of  the  Hilltown 


140  THE  GEE  AT  TRI-CLUB 

youths  who  was  lying  in  the  grass  with  his 
feet  stuck  out  so  far  that  they  touched  the 
line. 

Grace  got  up  and  tried  to  rest  his  weight 
on  his  leg,  and  then  sat  down  again  very 
promptly. 

He  shut  his  teeth  and  looked  around  him. 

Nobody  moved  except  Mr.  Clay,  who  asked 
anxiously  if  Grace  were  hurt.  Grace  said 
that  he  was ;  that  he  had  sprained  his  ankle. 

The  young  gentleman  over  whom  he  had 
fallen  had  by  this  time  curled  his  legs  up 
under  him,  but  made  no  proffer  of  assistance 
or  apology. 

"  Oh,  that's  an  old  trick ! "  Grace  heard 
the  younger  Slade  say,  in  a  tone  which  was 
meant  to  reach  him.  "Some  men  always 
sprain  their  ankles  when  they  are  not  sure  of 
winning.  I  guess  he'll  be  able  to  walk  be 
fore  the  year's  out." 

Grace  would  have  got  up  then  and  there 
and  thrashed  the  younger  Slade,  ankle  or  no 
ankle,  if  he  had  not  been  pounced  upon  by 
the  two  Malvern  boys,  who  pushed  their  way 
through  the  crowd  with  a  pail  of  lemonade 
and  a  half  dozen  towels  that  they  had  picked 
up  in  the  club-house.  They  slipped  off  his 


TENNIS   TOURNAMENT.  141 

shoe  and  stocking,  and  dipping  a  towel  in 
the  iced  lemonade,  bound  it  about  his  ankle 
and  repeated  the  operation  several  times, 
much  to  Grace's  relief. 

"  This  lemonade  was  prepared  for  drinking 
purposes,  I  fancy,"  said  one  of  them,  "but 
we  couldn't  find  anything  else.  I  never 
heard  of  its  being  good  for  sprains,  but  it 
will  have  to  do.  How  do  you  feel  now?" 

"  All  right,  thank  you, "  said  Grace.  "I've 
only  these  two  games  to  play  now,  and  it's  my 
serve.  I  needn't  run  around  much  in  that. 
Just  give  me  a  lift,  will  you?  Thanks." 

But  as  soon  as  Grace  touched  his  foot  to  the 
ground,  the  boys  saw  that  he  was  anything 
but  all  right.  His  face  grew  very  white, 
and  his  lips  lost  their  color.  Whenever  he 
moved  he  drew  in  his  breath  in  short,  quick 
gasps,  and  his  teeth  were  clinched  with  pain. 

He  lost  his  serve,  and  the  next  game  as 
well,  and  before  five  minutes  had  passed  he 
was  two  games  to  the  bad  in  the  last  set. 

The  Malvern  boys  came  to  him  and  told 
him  to  rest ;  that  he  was  not  only  going  to 
lose  the  game,  but  that  he  might  be  doing  se 
rious  injury  as  well  to  his  ankle,  which  was 
already  swelling  perceptibly.  But  Grace 


142  THE  GREAT  TRI-CLUB 

only  unlaced  his  shoe  the  further  and  set  his 
teeth.  One  of  the  Malvernites  took  upon 
himself  to  ask  the  referee  if  he  did  not  in 
tend  giving  Mr.  Grace  a  quarter  of  an  hour's 
"time"  at  least. 

The  referee  said  that  the  rules  did  not  say 
anything  about  sprained  ankles. 

"  Why,  I  know  of  tennis  matches,"  returned 
the  Malvernite  champion  excitedly,  "that 
have  been  laid  over  for  hours  because  of  a 
sprained  ankle.  It  will  be  no  glory  to  Mr. 
Slade  to  win  from  a  man  who  has  to  hop 
about  on  one  foot,  and  no  credit  either." 

"Mr.  Grace  is  a  crack  player,  and  I'm 
not,"  said  Slade;  "but  I  asked  no  favors  of 
him  on  that  account,  and  I  don't  expect  him 
to  ask  any  of  me." 

"I  haven't  asked  any  of  you!"  roared 
Grace,  now  wholly  exasperated  with  anger 
and  pain,  "and  you'll  wait  some  time  before 
I  do.  Go  on  with  the  game." 

The  ankle  grew  worse,  but  Grace's  playing 
improved,  notwithstanding.  He  felt  that  he 
would  rather  beat  "that  Slade  man  "  than  the 
champion  himself;  and  he  won  each  of  his 
serves,  not  one  of  the  balls  being  returned. 

They  were   now   "five  all,"  and   the  ex- 


TENNIS   TOURNAMENT.  143 

pressed  excitement  was  uproarious  in  its 
bitterness  and  intensity. 

Slade  had  the  serve,  and  it  was  with  a  look 
of  perfect  self-satisfaction  that  he  pounded 
the  first  ball  across  the  net.  Grace  returned 
it,  and  the  others  that  followed  brought  the 
score  up  to  'vantage  in  Slade's  favor,  so  that 
he  only  needed  one  more  point  to  win. 

The  people  stood  up  in  breathless  silence. 
Grace  limped  into  position  and  waited,  Slade 
bit  his  under  lip  nervously,  and  served  the 
ball  easily,  and  his  opponent  sent  it  back  to 
him  like  an  arrow ;  it  struck  within  a  foot  of 
the  serving  line  on  the  inside,  making  the 
score  "deuce." 

"  Outside !  Game  and  set  in  favor  of  Mr. 
Slade,"  chanted  the  younger  Slade  with  an 
exultant  cry. 

"What!  "  shouted  Grace  and  the  two  Mal- 
vernites  in  chorus. 

But  the  crowd  drowned  their  appeal  in 
exclamations  of  self -congratulation  and  tri 
umph. 

"Did  you  see  that  ball?"  demanded  Grace 
of  the  referee. 

"I  did,"  said  that  young  man. 

"  And  do  you  mean  to  tell  me  it  was  out  ?  " 


144  THE  GEE  AT  TRI-CLUB 

"It  was  —  I  do,"  stammered  the  youth. 
44  You  heard  what  Mr.  Slade  said." 

"I  don't  care  what  Mr.  Slade  said.  I 
appeal  to  you  against  the  most  absurd  decis 
ion  ever  heard  or  given  on  a  tennis-field." 

"And  I  support  Mr.  Slade,"  replied  the 
referee. 

"  Oh,  very  well !  "  said  Grace,  with  sudden 
quietness.  "  Come, "  he  whispered  to  his  two 
lieutenants,  "let's  get  out  of  this.  They'll 
take  our  watches  next!"  And  the  three 
slowly  made  their  way  to  the  club-house. 

They  helped  Grace  into  his  other  clothes 
and  packed  up  his  tennis-flannels  for  him. 
He  was  very  quiet  and  seemed  more  con 
cerned  about  his  ankle  than  over  the  loss  of 
the  State  championship. 

Grace  and  his  two  supporters  were  so  long 
in  getting  to  the  station,  no  one  having  offered 
Grace  a  carriage,  that  he  missed  his  train. 

He  was  very  much  annoyed,  for  he  was 
anxious  to  shake  the  dust  of  Hilltown  from 
his  feet,  and  he  was  more  than  anxious  about 
his  ankle. 

"Mr.  Grace,"  said  Merton,  "Prior  and  I 
were  wondering  if  you  would  think  we  were 
presuming  on  our  short  acquaintance  if  we 


TENNIS   TOURNAMENT.  145 

asked  you  to  come  home  with  us  to  Malvern. 
You  can't  get  back  to  college  to-night  from 
here,  and  Malvern  is  only  ten  miles  off.  My 
father  is  a  doctor  and  could  tell  you  what  you 
ought  to  do  about  your  ankle,  and  we  would  be 
very  much  pleased  if  you  would  stay  with  us. " 

"Yes,  indeed,  we  would,  Mr.  Grace," 
echoed  the  younger  lad. 

"  Why,  it's  very  kind  of  you ;  you're  very 
good  indeed!  "  stammered  Grace;  "but  I  am 
afraid  your  family  are  hardly  prepared  to 
receive  patients  at  all  hours,  and  to  have  the 
house  turned  into  a  hospital." 

Merton  protested  with  dignity  that  he  had 
asked  Grace  as  a  guest,  not  as  a  patient ;  and 
they  finally  compromised  upon  Grace's  con 
senting  to  go  on  to  Malvern,  but  insisting 
on  going  to  the  hotel. 

Grace  had  not  been  at  the  Malvern  Hotel, 
which  was  the  only  one  in  the  place,  and 
more  of  an  inn  than  a  hotel,  for  over  ten 
minutes  before  Dr.  Merton  arrived  in  an 
open  carriage  and  carried  him  off,  whether 
he  would  or  no,  to  his  own  house,  where, 
after  the  ankle  was  dressed,  Grace  was 
promptly  put  to  bed. 

In  the  morning,  much  to  his  surprise,  he 


146  THE  GREAT  TRI-CLUB 

found  that  the  swelling  had  almost  entirely 
disappeared,  and  he  was  allowed  in  conse 
quence  to  come  down  to  the  breakfast-table 
with  the  family,  where  he  sat  with  his  foot 
propped  up  on  a  chair.  He  was  considered  a 
very  distinguished  invalid  and  found  it  hard 
not  to  pose  as  a  celebrity  in  the  cross-fire  of 
admiring  glances  from  the  younger  Merton 
boys  and  the  deferential  questions  of  their 
equally  young  sisters. 

After  breakfast,  he  was  assisted  out  on  to 
the  lawn  and  placed  in  a  comfortable  wicker 
chair  under  a  tree,  where  he  could  read  his 
book  or  watch  the  boys  play  tennis,  as  he 
pleased.  The  tennis  was  so  well  worth 
watching  that  after  regarding  it  critically  for 
half  an  hour  he  suddenly  pounded  the  arm  of 
his  chair  and  called  excitedly  for  the  boys  to 
come  to  him.  They  ran  up  in  some  alarm. 

"No,  there's  nothing  wrong,"  he  said.  "I 
have  a  great  idea.  I  see  a  way  for  you  to 
get  even  with  those  lads  at  Hilltown  and  to 
revenge  me  by  proxy.  All  you  need  is  a 
week's  training  with  better  players  than 
yourselves  for  this  tri-club  tournament  and 
you'll  be  as  good  or  better  than  they  are  now." 

Then    the   champion    explained  how   the 


TENNIS   TOURNAMENT.  147 

Malvern  team,  having  no  worthy  opponents 
to  practise  against  at  home,  were  not  able  to 
improve  in  their  playing ;  that  water  would 
not  rise  above  its  own  level ;  and  that  all  they 
required  was  competitors  who  were  much 
better  than  themselves. 

"I  can  teach  you  something  about  team- 
play  that  you  don't  seem  to  understand," 
said  Grace.  "I  will  write  to-day  to  that 
college  chap,  Thatcher,  to  come  down  with 
a  good  partner  and  they  will  give  you  some 
fine  practice." 

The  Malvern  boys  were  delighted.  They 
wanted  the  lessons  to  begin  at  once,  and  as 
soon  as  the  letter  was  despatched  to  Thatcher, 
Grace  had  his  arm-chair  moved  up  near  the 
net  and  began  his  lectures  on  tennis,  two 
boys  from  the  Malvern  club  acting  as  the 
team's  opponents. 

Grace  began  by  showing  the  boys  the 
advantage  of  working  as  a  team  and  not  as 
individuals,  how  to  cover  both  alleys  at  once, 
and  how  to  guard  both  the  front  and  back ; 
he  told  them  where  to  stand  so  as  not  to 
interfere  with  each  other's  play,  when  to 
"smash"  a  ball  and  when  to  lift  it  high  in 
the  air,  where  to  place  it  and  when  to  let  it 


148  THE  GEE  AT  TRI-CLUB 

alone.  Sometimes  one  play  would  be  re 
peated  over  and  over  again,  and  though 
Grace  was  a  sharp  master  his  team  were  only 
too  willing  to  do  as  he  commanded  whether 
they  saw  the  advantage  of  it  or  not.  When 
the  shadows  began  to  grow  long,  and  the 
dinner  gong  sounded,  Grace  told  them  they 
could  stop,  and  said  they  had  already  made 
marked  improvement,  so  they  went  in  radiant 
with  satisfaction  and  exercise,  and  delight 
fully  tired. 

Practice  began  promptly  the  next  morn 
ing,  and  continued  steadily  on  to  luncheon. 
At  two  o'clock  Thatcher  and  another  player 
arrived  from  the  college,  which  was  only  a 
few  miles  distant  from  Malvern,  and  Grace 
gave  them  an  account  of  his  defeat  at  Hill- 
town  and  of  the  Slade's  treatment  of  the 
Malvernites. 

"You  saw,  Thatcher,"  said  Grace,  "how 
they  abused  and  insulted  those  boys.  Well, 
these  same  boys  have  treated  me  as  if  I  were 
one  of  their  own  family.  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Mer- 
ton  have  done  everything  that  people  could 
do.  It  has  been  really  lovely,  and  I  think 
I  can  show  my  appreciation  of  it  by  bring 
ing  back  those  cups  from  that  hole  in  the 


TENNIS   TOURNAMENT.  149 

ground  called  Hilltown.  And  I  ask  you  to 
help  me." 

The  college  men  entered  heartily  into 
Grace's  humor,  and  promised  to  come  down 
every  afternoon  and  give  the  boys  all  the 
practice  they  wanted. 

Every  one  belonging  to  the  club  had  heard 
what  was  going  on,  by  this  time,  and  the* 
doctor's  big  front  lawn  was  crowded  with 
people  all  the  afternoon  in  consequence. 

The  improvement  in  the  Malvern  boysr 
playing  was  so  great  that  every  one  came  up 
to  be  introduced,  and  to  congratulate  Grace 
on  the  work  he  had  done.  He  held  quite  a 
levee  in  his  arm-chair. 

Mrs.  Merton  asked  the  college  men  to  sup 
per,  and  had  some  of  the  Malvern  men  and 
maidens  to  meet  them. 

The  visitors  presumably  enjoyed  their  first 
day  very  much,  for  when  they  returned  the 
next  morning  they  were  accompanied  by  four 
more  collegians,  who  showed  the  keenest 
interest  in  the  practice  games. 

These  four  men  belonged  to  that  set  that 
is  found  in  almost  every  college,  whose  mem 
bers  always  seem  to  have  plenty  of  time  to 
encourage  and  aid  every  institution  of  Alma 


150  THE  GREAT  TRI-CLUB 

Mater,  from  the  debating  societies  to  the  tug- 
of-war  team. 

These  particular  four  were  always  on  the 
field  when  the  teams  practised;  they  bought 
more  tickets  than  any  one  else  for  the  Glee 
Club  concerts;  and  no  matter  how  far  the 
foot-ball  team  might  have  to  wander  to  play 
a  match,  they  could  always  count  on  the 
appearance  of  the  faithful  four,  clad  in  great 
coats  down  to  their  heels,  and  with  enough 
lung  power  to  drown  the  cheers  of  a  hundred 
opponents. 

Barnes,  Blair,  Black,  and  Buck  were  their 
proper  names,  but  they  were  collectively 
known  as  the  Four  B's,  the  Old  Guard,  or 
the  Big  Four;  and  Thatcher  had  so  worked 
on  their  feelings  that  they  were  now  quite 
ready  to  champion  the  Malvern  team  against 
their  disagreeable  opponents. 

They  made  a  deep  impression  on  the  good 
townsfolk  of  Malvern.  Different  people  car 
ried  them  off  to  supper,  but  they  all  met 
later  at  Dr.  Merton's  and  sat  out  on  his  wide 
veranda  in  the  moonlight,  singing  college 
songs  to  a  banjo  accompaniment  which  de 
lighted  the  select  few  inside  the  grounds  and 
equally  charmed  a  vast  number  of  the  unin 
vited  who  hung  over  the  front  fence. 


TENNIS   TOURNAMENT.  151 

The  practice  games  continued  day  after  day, 
and  once  or  twice  the  Malvern  team  suc 
ceeded  in  defeating  their  instructors,  which 
delighted  no  one  more  than  the  instructors 
themselves. 

Grace  was  very  much  pleased.  He  declared 
he  would  rather  have  his  boys  defeat  the 
Slades  than  win  the  national  tournament 
himself,  and  at  the  time  he  said  so,  he  really 
believed  that  he  would. 

He  went  around  on  crutches  now,  and  it 
was  very  odd  to  see  him  vaulting  about  the 
court  in  his  excitement,  scolding  and  approv 
ing,  and  shouting,  "Leave  that  ball  alone," 
"Come  up,  now,"  "Go  back,  play  it  easy," 
"Smash  it,"  "Played,  indeed,  sir,"  "Well 
placed." 

The  tri-club  tournament  opened  on  Wed 
nesday,  and  on  Tuesday  the  Four  B's,  who 
had  been  daily  visitors  "to  Malvern,  failed  to 
appear,  but  sent  instead  two  big  pasteboard 
boxes,  each  holding  a  blazer,  cap,  and  silk 
scarf,  in  blue-and-white  stripes,  the  Malvern 
club  colors,  which  they  offered  as  their  share 
toward  securing  the  Malvern  champions'  vic 
tory. 

On  the  last  practice  day,  Grace  balanced 


152  THE  GEE  AT  TRI-CLUB 

himself  on  his  crutches  and  gave  the  boys 
the  hardest  serving  they  had  ever  tried  to 
stand  up  against.  All  day  long  he  pounded 
the  balls  just  an  inch  above  the  net,  and 
when  they  were  able  to  return  three  out  of 
six  he  threw  down  his  racket  and  declared 
himself  satisfied.  "We  may  not  take  the 
singles,"  he  said,  "but  it  looks  as  if  the 
doubles  were  coming  our  way." 

Grace  and  his  boys,  much  to  the  disgust  of 
the  townspeople,  all  of  whom,  from  the  bur 
gess  down  to  the  hostler  in  the  Malvern 
Hotel,  were  greatly  excited  over  the  coming 
struggle,  requested  that  no  one  should  accom 
pany  them  to  Hilltown.  They  said  if  they 
took  a  crowd  down  there  and  were  beaten  it 
would  only  make  their  defeat  more  conspicu 
ous,  and  that  the  presence  of  so  many  inter 
ested  friends  might  also  make  the  boys 
nervous.  If  they  won,  they  could  celebrate 
the  victory  more  decorously  at  home.  But 
Grace  could  not  keep  the  people  from  going 
as  far  as  the  depot  to  see  them  off,  and  they 
were  so  heartily  cheered  as  they  steamed 
away  that  the  passengers  and  even  the  con 
ductor  were  much  impressed. 

The  reappearance  of   Grace   on   crutches, 


TENNIS   TOURNAMENT.  153 

and  of  the  Malvern  boys  in  their  new  clothes 
caused  a  decided  sensation.  They  avoided 
any  conversation  with  the  Hilltown  people, 
and  allowed  Grace  to  act  for  them  in  arrang 
ing  the  preliminaries. 

Pineville  had  sent  two  teams.  Hilltown 
was  satisfied  with  the  "State  champions," 
as  they  now  fondly  called  the  Slades,  and 
these,  with  Malvern's  one  team,  balanced  the 
games  evenly. 

The  doubles  opened  with  Merton  and  Prior 
against  the  second  Pineville  team,  and  the 
State  champions  against  its  first.  Grace  told 
his  boys  not  to  exert  themselves,  and  to  play 
only  just  well  enough  to  win.  They  did  as 
he  said,  and  the  second  Pineville  team  were 
defeated  in  consequence  by  so  few  points 
that  they  felt  quite  pleased  with  themselves. 
The  Slades  had  but  little  trouble  with  the 
other  Pineville  team. 

Then  the  finals  came  on,  and  the  people  of 
Hilltown  crowded  up  to  see  the  demolition 
of  the  Malvernites,  against  whom  they  were 
now  more  than  bitter,  owing  to  Grace's  evi 
dent  interest  in  their  success. 

The  Hilltown  element  were  so  anxious  to 
show  their  great  regard  for  the  champions 


154  THE  GEE  AT  TRI-CLUB 

that  they  had  contributed  an  extra  amount 
of  money  toward  the  purchase  of  prize  cups 
over  and  above  the  fixed  sum  subscribed  by 
each  of  the  three  clubs. 

"Get  those  cups  ready  for  us,"  said  the 
elder  Slade,  as  the  four  players  took  their 
places.  Prior  looked  as  if  he  was  going  to 
answer  this  taunt,  but  Grace  shook  his  head 
at  him. 

Thatcher,  whose  late  service  to  the  Mal- 
vern  team  was  unknown,  acted  at  their  re 
quest  as  one  of  the  umpires.  Two  Hilltown 
men  served  as  the  referee  and  other  umpire. 
The  game  opened  up  in  a  way  that  caused  a 
cold  chill  to  run  down  the  backs  of  the  Hill- 
town  contingent.  The  despised  Malvernites 
were  transformed,  and  Hilltown  could  not 
believe  its  eyes. 

"  Are  these  the  same  boys  who  were  here 
ten  days  ago  ?  "  asked  an  excited  old  gentle 
man. 

"They  say  they  are,"  replied  Mr.  Percy 
Clay,  gloomily,  "but  they  don't  look  it." 

The  Slades  felt  a  paralyzing  numbness 
coming  over  them  as  ball  after  ball  came 
singing  back  into  their  court,  placed  in  odd 
corners  just  out  of  reach  of  their  racquets. 


TENNIS   TOURNAMENT.  155 

They  held  a  hurried  consultation,  and 
rolled  up  their  sleeves  a  little  higher  and 
tossed  away  their  caps. 

Grace  had  a  far-away  and  peaceful  look  in 
his  eyes  that  made  the  crowd  feel  nervous. 
The  first  set  went  six  to  four  in  favor  of  Mal- 
vern.  Then  the  crowd  surrounded  the  cham 
pions  and  poured  good  advice  and  reproaches 
upon  them,  which  did  not  serve  to  help 
either  their  play  or  their  temper. 

The  result  of  the  second  set  convinced  the 
umpire  and  referee  that  it  was  time  to  take  a 
hand  in  the  game  themselves,  and  the  decis 
ions  at  once  became  so  unfair  that  Grace 
hobbled  over  to  that  end  of  the  court  to  see 
after  things.  But  his  presence  had  no  effect 
on  the  perceptions  of  the  Hilltown  umpire. 
So  he  hobbled  back  to  Thatcher  and  asked 
him  what  they  had  better  do  about  it. 
Thatcher  said  he  was  powerless,  and  Grace 
regretted  bitterly  that  he  had  not  brought  a 
crowd  with  him  to  see  fair  play,  for  the  boys 
were  getting  rattled  at  being  robbed  of  so 
many  of  their  hard- won  points.  To  make 
matters  worse,  the  crowd  took  Thatcher  in 
hand,  and  disputed  every  decision  he  gave 
against  Hilltown.  Thatcher's  blood  rose  at 


156  THE  GEE  AT  TEI-CLUB 

this,  and  forgetting  that  the  usual  procedure 
would  not  be  recognized  by  a  Hilltown  crowd, 
he  turned  on  the  spectators  and  told  them  that 
he  would  have  the  next  man  who  interfered 
or  questioned  his  decisions  expelled  from  the 
grounds. 

His  warning  was  received  with  ripples  of 
laughter  and  ironical  cheers. 

"Who's  going  to  put  us  out?"  asked  the 
Hilltown  youths,  derisively.  But  Thatcher 
had  spoken  in  a  rather  loud  voice,  and  his 
words  and  the  answer  to  them  had  reached 
the  ears  of  four  straight-limbed  young  men 
who  were  at  that  moment  making  their  way 
across  the  grounds.  They  broke  into  a  run 
when  they  heard  Thatcher's  angry  voice, 
and,  shoving  their  way  through  the  big  crowd 
with  an  abruptness  learned  only  in  practice 
against  a  rush  line  on  a  foot-ball  field,  stood 
forth  on  the  court  in  all  the  glory  of  orange 
and  black  blazers. 

"  The  Four  B's !  "  exclaimed  Grace,  with  a 
gasp  of  relief. 

"  What  seems  to  be  the  matter,  Thatcher  ?  " 
asked  Black,  quietly.  "  Whom  do  you  want 
put  out?" 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  demanded  Mr.  Clay,  run- 


TENNIS   TOURNAMENT.  157 

ning  up  in  much  excitement.  "  Get  off  this 
court.  You'll  be  put  out  yourselves  if  you 
attempt  to  interfere." 

Several  of  the  Hilltown  young  men  ran  to 
Mr.  Clay's  assistance,  while  one  of  the  Slades 
leaped  over  the  net  and  seized  Mr.  Clay  by 
the  shoulder. 

"Don't  be  a  fool,  Clay!"  he  whispered. 
"  I  know  those  men.  Two  of  them  play  on 
the  foot-ball  team,  and  if  they  felt  like  it 
they  could  turn  the  whole  town  out  of  the 
grounds.  Leave  them  alone." 

Mr.  Clay  left  them  alone. 

"Go  on,  Thatcher,"  said  Black,  with  a 
nod,  "if  any  of  these  gentlemen  object  to 
any  decision,  we  will  discuss  it  with  them. 
That's  what  we're  here  for."  Two  of  the 
Big  Four  seated  themselves  at  the  feet  of  the 
Hilltown  umpire,  and  looked  wistfully  up  at 
him  whenever  he  made  a  close  decision.  It 
was  remarkable  how  his  eyesight  was  im 
proved  by  their  presence. 

The  Malvern  boys  beamed  with  confidence 
again.  The  second  set  went  to  them,  6-4. 
Grace  was  so  delighted  that  he  excitedly 
stamped  his  bad  foot  on  the  turf,  and  then 
howled  with  pain. 


158  THE  GEE  AT  TRI-CLUB 

The  last  set  was  "for  blood,"  —  as  one  of 
the  four  collegians  said. 

The  Slades  overcame  their  first  surprise, 
and  settled  down  to  fight  for  every  point. 
The  Malvernites  gave  them  all  the  fight  they 
wanted.  One  by  one  the  games  fell  now  on 
one  side,  now  on  the  other  side  of  the  net. 
And  when  it  came  five  games  all,  the  disgust 
and  disappointment  of  the  crowd  showed  it 
self  in  shouts  and  cheers  for  their  champions 
and  hoots  for  their  young  opponents. 

But  all  the  cheering  and  hooting  could  not 
change  the  result. 

"  Set  and  game !  Malvern  wins !  "  shouted 
Thatcher,  and  then,  forgetting  his  late  judi 
cial  impartiality,  threw  his  arms  around  Mer- 
ton's  neck  and  yelled. 

The  silence  of  the  Hilltown  people  was  so 
impressive  that  the  wild  yell  of  the  college 
contingent  sounded  like  a  whole  battery  of 
skyrockets  instead  of  only  four,  and  Grace 
sat  down  on  the  court  and  pounded  the 
ground  with  his  crutches. 

"  That's  enough  for  me, "  he  cried ;  "  I  don't 
care  for  the  singles.  I  know  when  I've  had 
enough!  I'd  have  two  sprained  ankles  to 
do  it  over  again!  " 


TENNIS   TOURNAMENT.  159 

Then  the  S lades  announced  that  the  singles 
would  begin  immediately  after  luncheon. 

The  Malvern  contingent  went  to  the  hotel 
to  find  something  to  eat,  and  Blair  slipped 
away  to  telegraph  to  Malvern. 

Five  minutes  later  the  operator  at  that  place 
jumped  as  if  he  had  received  a  shock  from 
his  own  battery,  and  ran  out  into  the  street 
shouting,  "  Malvern's  won  the  doubles,  three 
straight  sets ! " 

Judge  Prior's  coachman,  who  was  waiting 
at  the  station  for  an  express  package,  turned 
his  horse  and  galloped  back  up  Malvern's 
only  street,  shouting  out : 

"We've  won.  Master  John  and  Mr.  Mer- 
ton's  won  the  tennis  match." 

And  then  the  people  set  to  work  to  prepare 
a  demonstration. 

The  Hilltown  people  thought  they  had 
never  seen  young  men  so  disagreeable  as 
were  the  Big  Four  after  luncheon.  They 
seated  themselves  like  sentinels  at  the  four 
corners  of  the  court,  and  whenever  any  one 
ventured  to  jeer  at  Malvern's  representative 
they  would  burst  into  such  an  enthusiasm  of 
cheering  as  to  drown  the  jeers  and  deafen  the 
spectators. 


160  THE  GREAT  TEI-CLUE 

There  was  no  one  in  the  singles  but  Slade 
and  Merton,  the  Pineville  representative  hav 
ing  decided  to  drop  out.  Merton  was  ner 
vous,  and  Slade  was  determined  to  win. 
Both  played  as  they  had  never  played  before, 
but  Slade 's  service,  which  was  his  strong 
point,  was  nothing  after  the  one  to  which 
Grace  had  accustomed  Merton.  And  in  spite 
of  Slade 's  most  strenuous  efforts  the  games 
kept  coming  slowly  and  slightly  in  Merton 's 
favor. 

They  were  two  sets  all  and  were  beginning 
the  final  set,  when  Barnes  arose  and  disap 
peared  in  the  crowd.  But  those  of  the  quar 
tette  who  were  left  made  noise  enough  to 
keep  Merton  playing  his  best.  It  became  a 
more  and  more  bitter  fight  as  the  end  drew 
near.  Grace  was  so  excited  that  not  even 
his  sprained  ankle  could  keep  him  quiet,  and 
Thatcher  had  great  difficulty  in  restraining  a 
desire  to  shout.  At  last  Merton  got  "  'van 
tage,"  with  only  one  point  to  win,  but  he 
missed  the  next  ball  and  back  went  the  score 
to  "  deuce "  again.  Three  times  this  hap 
pened,  and  three  times  the  college  men  half 
rose  from  the  ground  expecting  to  cheer,  and 
then  sank  back  again.  "If  he  does  that 


TENNIS   TOURNAMENT.  161 

again,"  said  Grace,  "  I'll  have  nervous  pros 
tration  ! "  Butt  he  didn't  do  it  again.  He 
smashed  the  next  ball  back  into  Slade's  court 
far  out  of  his  way,  and  then  pulled  down  his 
sleeves  as  unconcernedly  as  if  he  had  been 
playing  a  practice  game. 

The  next  moment  Prior  and  the  others  had 
lifted  him  up  on  their  shoulders,  and  were 
tramping  around  the  field  with  him  shouting, 
"What's  the  matter  with  Malvern?"  and 
"We  are  the  people  ! "  and  many  other  such 
highly  ridiculous  and  picturesque  cries  of 
victory. 

And  then  there  came  a  shout  from  the 
entrance  to  the  grounds,  and  up  the  carriage 
way  rode  Barnes  mounted  on  top  of  an  old- 
fashioned,  yellow-bodied  stage-coach  that  he 
had  found  in  some  Hilltown  livery-stable  and 
decorated  from  top  to  bottom  with  the  Mal 
vern  colors.  He  had  four  horses  in  hand,  and 
he  was  waving  his  whip  and  shouting  as  if  a 
pack  of  wolves  or  Indians  were  in  close  pursuit. 

The  boys  clambered  up  on  top  of  the  coach 
and  began  blowing  the  horns  and  affixing  the 
new  brooms  that  Barnes  had  thoughtfully 
furnished  for  them.  They  were  in  such  a 
hurry  to  start  that  they  forgot  the  prizes; 


162  THE  GEE  AT  TRI-CLUB 

and  if  Grace  had  not  reminded  the  boys,  they 
would  have  gone  home  content  without  the 
tokens  of  victory. 

The  faces  of  Mr.  Percy  Clay  and  the  other 
contributors  to  the  silver  cups  when  they 
saw  the  prizes  handed  up  to  that  "  Malvern 
gang,"  as  they  now  called  them,  were  most 
pitiful. 

"Fancy  our  giving  two  hundred  dollars 
extra  for  those  cups,  and  then  having  them 
go  to  Malvern  !  "  groaned  Mr.  Clay. 

The  boys  took  the  prizes  without  remark, 
and  had  the  courtesy  not  to  open  the  boxes 
in  which  the  cups  reposed  on  blue  velvet  un 
til  they  were  out  of  sight  of  the  men  who 
had  lost  them  with  such  bad  grace. 

But  when  once  they  were  on  the  road,  with 
the  wind  whistling  around  their  hats  and  the 
trees  meeting  over  their  heads  and  the  sun 
smiling  its  congratulations  as  it  sank  for  the 
night,  they  examined  the  cups,  and  Grace 
said  he  had  never  seen  any  handsomer. 

It  really  seemed  as  if  the  ten  miles  was 
covered  in  as  many  minutes,  and  though  dogs 
ran  out  and  barked  at  them,  and  the  people  in 
the  fields  stared  at  them  as  if  they  thought  they 
were  crazy,  and  although  Barnes  insisted  on 


TENNIS   TOURNAMENT.  163 

driving  over  every  stone  he  could  find  and 
almost  upsetting  them,  they  kept  up  their 
spirits  and  shouted  and  sang  the  whole  way. 

The  engineer  of  the  train  that  had  taken 
them  up  saw  the  coach  on  his  return  trip 
bounding  through  the  shady  high  road  where 
it  ran  parallel  with  his  track,  and  told  the 
operator  at  Malvern  that  "those  boys  were 
coming  back  on  top  of  a  circus  band-wagon." 

And  the  people  of  Malvern  were  ready  to 
receive  them,  though  they  were  still  ignorant 
of  the  second  victory.  The  young  people 
lined  the  high  road  for  a  distance  beyond  the 
town,  and  the  boys  saw  them  from  afar,  seated 
on  the  fence-rails  and  in  carts  and  wagons. 
The  other  members  of  the  club  saw  the  stage, 
also,  for  one  of  the  boys  had  been  up  in  a 
tree  on  the  lookout  for  the  last  half  hour. 
And  they  waved  the  club  colors  and  all  the 
flags  they  had  been  able  to  get  at  such  short 
notice ;  but  it  Was  not  until  three  of  the  Big 
Four  stood  up  on  top  of  the  coach  at  the  risk 
of  breaking  their  necks,  and  held  up  the  cups 
and  waved  them  around  their  heads  until 
they  flashed  like  mirrors,  that  the  club  really 
cheered.  And  when  they  saw  that  there  were 
THKEE  cups  they  set  up  such  a  hurrah  that  the 


164  THE  GREAT  TRI-CLUB 

cows  in  the  next  field  tore  madly  off  in  a  stam 
pede.  That  night  everybody  in  town  came 
to  Dr.  Merton's  with  the  village  band  and 
thronged  the  big  lawn ;  and  Merton  made  a 
speech  in  which  he  spoke  very  highly  of  Prior, 
and  of  the  Big  Four  who  had  helped  to  save 
the  day,  and  of  Thatcher,  but  most  of  all  of 
Grace. 

Then  Grace  had  to  speak  leaning  on  his 
crutches;  and  the  band  played  and  the  college 
boys  sang  and  everybody  handled  the  prizes 
and  admired  them  even  to  the  champions' 
satisfaction. 

The  next  day  Grace  bade  his  new  friends 
good  by  and  went  back  to  college,  where  his 
absence  was  attributed  to  his  sprained  ankle. 
He  thought  of  the  people  of  Malvern  very 
often,  of  the  twilight  evenings  spent  on  Dr. 
Merton's  lawn  listening  to  the  college  boys' 
singing,  and  talking  to  the  girls  of  the  Mal 
vern  Tennis  Club,  and  of  the  glorious  victory 
of  his  pupils  and  the  friendliness  and  kind 
ness  of  his  hosts. 

He  knew  he  would  never  forget  them,  but 
he  hardly  thought  they  would  long  remember 
him. 

But,    two   weeks    later,    the    expressman 


TENNIS   TOURNAMENT.  165 

brought  a  big  box  with  a  smaller  black  one 
inside  of  it ;  and  within,  resting  on  its  blue 
velvet  bed,  was  a  facsimile  of  the  prize-cup 
of  the  tri-club  tournament.  And  it  was 
marked,  "  To  Charles  Coleridge  Grace.  From 
the  people  of  Malvern." 

And  when  Grace  exhibits  the  many  prizes 
he  has  won,  they  say  that  it  is  this  cup  which 
he  did  not  win  that  he  handles  most  tenderly 
and  shows  with  the  greatest  pride. 


THE  JUMP  AT   COEBY'S   SLIP. 


THE  jump  from  Corey's  slip  was  never 
made  but  by  two  of  the  Brick  Dust  Gang, 
and  though,  as  it  turned  out,  they  were  not 
sorry  they  had  taken  it,  they  served  as  a 
warning  to  all  the  others  of  the  gang  against 
trying  to  emulate  their  daring. 

Corey's  slip,  as  everybody  knows,  is  part  of 
Corey's  brick-yard,  on  the  East  side,  near 
the  Twenty-sixth  street  wharf,  and  the  Brick 
Dust  Gang  are  so  called  because  they  have  a 
hidden  meeting-place  among  the  high  piles  of 
bricks  which  none  of  the  other  boys,  nor  the 
police,  nor  even  the  employees  of  the  brick 
yard  have  been  able  to  find.  It  is  known  to 
exist,  though,  and  the  gang  meet  there  to 
smoke  and  play  the  accordion  and  gamble  for 
cigarette  pictures,  and  to  pursue  such  other 
sinful  and  demoralizing  practices  of  East  side 
youth  as  they  elect. 

The  Brick  Dust  Gang  must  not  be  con- 
166 


THE  JUMP  AT  COREY'S   SLIP.        167 

founded  with  the  Rag  Gang  of  "  The  Bay," 
near  Thirty-third  street,  for,  while  the  Rag 
Gang  are  thieves  and  toughs,  the  Brick  Dust 
Gang  are  too  young  to  be  very  wicked,  and 
their  "  folks  "  are  too  respectable  to  let  them 
go  very  far  astray.  The  gang  got  along  very 
well  during  the  winter  months,  and  the  hole 
in  the  bricks  was  filled  every  afternoon  after 
the  public  schools  had  closed,  with  from  a 
dozen  to  twenty  of  them. 

Buck  Mooney  was  the  leader,  and  no  one 
disputed  his  claim,  for  he  was  a  born  leader 
in  some  respects,  just  as  was  his  father,  who 
could  throw  the  votes  of  the  Luke  J.  Mooney 
Star  Social  Club  wherever  they  would  do 
himself  and  the  party  the  most  good.  But 
his  son  Buck  was  quick-tempered  and  stronger 
than  he  knew,  and  he  had  a  way  of  knocking 
the  younger  and  less  pugilistic  members  of  his 
crowd  around  which  was  injudicious ;  for  by 
this  he  hurt  his  own  popularity  as  well  as 
their  heads. 

He  was  no  bully  though,  and  there  was  no 
one  who  could  lead  him  in  any  show  of  physi 
cal  prowess  recognized  and  practised  by  the 
gang.  So  all  through  the  winter  he  was 
easily  the  leader,  and  no  one  stood  against 


168        THE  JUMP  AT  COEEY'S   SLIP. 

him.  His  fall  came  in  the  spring.  The  com 
ing  of  the  spring  meant  more  to  the  Brick 
Dust  Gang  than  to  almost  any  other  crowd 
along  the  river  front,  for  their  knowledge  of 
the  brick-yard  and  its  wharf  enabled  them  to 
bathe  in  the  river  quite  hidden  from  the 
police  at  any  hour  of  the  day,  and  this  means 
a  great  deal  to  those  who  have  felt  the  stifling 
heat  of  the  tenements  along  the  East  River. 

They  bathed  and  swam  and  dived  from  the 
first  of  May  until  the  autumn  came  and  gave 
the  water  such  a  sharpness  that  they  left  it 
numbed  and  with  chattering  teeth,  and  they 
began  at  five  in  the  morning  and  kept  it  up 
late  into  the  night.  They  lived  in  th'e  water, 
and  were  rather  more  at  home  in  it  than  they 
were  on  the  streets.  The  workmen  in  the 
brick-yard  never  interfered  with  them,  because 
the  boys  helped  them  in  piling  the  bricks  and 
in  unloading  the  scows  and  loading  the  carts ; 
and  the  police  could  never  catch  them,  for 
the  reason  that  the  boys  always  kept  a  part 
of  the  gang  posted  as  sentinels  in  the  yard. 

Mooney  and  Tommy  Grant  were  easily  the 
best  swimmers  in  the  crowd.  Tommy  was 
four  years  younger  than  the  leader,  and  small 
and  consumptive-looking;  but  he  was  absurdly 


THE  JUMP  AT  COEEY'S  SLIP.         169 

strong  for  his  size,  and  his  body  was  as  hard 
and  muscular  as  a  jockey's.  The  trouble 
began  between  the  two  at  the  swimming- 
match  at  Harlem  for  all  comers,  where  they 
both  entered  for  the  one-mile  race  with  a  turn. 
The  Harlem  boys  were  not  in  it  from  the  first, 
and  the  two  down-town  boys  led  all  the  others 
by  a  hundred  yards.  "  The  little  fellow,"  as 
Tommy  was  called  by  the  crowds  on  the 
shore,  was  the  popular  favorite ;  and  the  crowd 
was  delighted  when  he  came  plunging  in 
ahead,  swimming  so  much  under  water  that 
only  one  bare  shoulder  and  revolving  arm 
told  where  he  was. 

Buck  Mooney,  the  leader  of  the  gang,  was  a 
bad  second  and  a  bad  loser  as  well.  He  swore 
a  great  deal  when  his  backers  pulled  him  out 
of  the  water,  and  gave  every  reason  for 
Tommy's  success,  except  that  Tommy  could 
swim  faster  than  he  could. 

When  Tommy  appeared  around  the  streets 
the  next  day  with  the  big  gold  medal  on  his 
coat,  and  with  the  words  "  Champion  of  the 
East  River"  blazoned  on  it,  Mooney  felt  worse 
than  ever,  and  grew  so  ugly  over  it  that  some 
of  the  gang  soon  turned  against  him,  and  his 
hold  over  them  disappeared.  Little  Tommy 


,170        THE  JUMP  AT  COREY'S  SLIP. 

took  his  place  without  any  formal  election, 
and  Mooney  sulked  and  said  unpleasant  things 
about  him  behind  his  back. 

They  never  came  to  blows,  but  they  both 
grew  to  hate  each  other  cordially  ,t — princi 
pally  through  the  stories  their  friends  told  of 
each  to  the  other,  as  friends,  true  friends,  are 
found  to  do,  in  all  classes  of  society.  So  the 
breach  grew  very  great  and  the  gang  was 
divided  and  lost  its  influence.  One  faction 
would  refuse  to  act  as  sentinel  for  the  other, 
and  each  claimed  the  meeting-place.  On  the 
whole,  it  was  very  unpleasant,  and  most  un 
satisfactory  to  those  who  loved  peace. 

It  was  evident  that  something  must  be 
done  ;  either  the  gang  must  separate  into  two 
crowds  or  reunite  again  under  one  leader.  It 
was  a  foolish,  dare-devil  young  Irish  boy  that 
suggested  how  this  last  and  much-desired 
result  could  be  accomplished.  There  was  a 
big  derrick  at  the  end  of  the  wharf  to  lift  the 
buckets  of  coal  from  the  scows,  when  the 
place  was  used  for  a  coal-yard. 

Some  of  the  more  daring  boys  had  jumped 
from  the  middle  bar  of  this  derrick,  in  emula 
tion  of  Steve  Brodie,  whose  jump  from  the 
Brooklyn  Bridge  and  subsequent  elevation  to 


THE  JUMP  AT  COREY'S   SLIP.        171 

the  proprietorship  of  a  saloon  had  stirred  up 
every  boy  in  the  East  side.  It  was  a  dan 
gerous  thing  to  do,  because  there  was  an 
outer  row  of  posts  beyond  the  slip,  and  who 
ever  jumped  had  to  jump  out  far  enough  to 
strike  the  water  beyond  them.  For,  if  he 
should  not  jump  far  enough  — 

What  the  Irish  boy  proposed  was  that  some 
one  should  try  to  dive  —  not  jump  —  from 
the  very  top  of  the  derrick.  The  derrick  was 
fifty  feet  above  the  water,  and  the  outer  line 
of  posts  was  eight  feet  from  the  slip  and  fif, 
teen  feet  from  the  line  of  the  derrick.  It 
looked  like  just  what  it  was  —  an  impossibil 
ity —  for  any  one  but  the  coolest  and  most 
practised  diver. 

"  If  a  lad  should  do  it,"  objected  one  of  the 
gang,  "  and  'ud  hit  them  piles,  there'd  be  no 
getting  at  him  quick  e'cept  from  the  top  of 
the  derrick.  He'd  sink  afore  any  one  could 
get  around  the  piles  to  him  from  the  slip." 

"There'd  be  no  need  to  hurry,"  said  an 
other,  grimly.  "He'd  keep  till  the  police 
boat  picked  him  up." 

"Well,  the  morgue's  handy,"  commented 
another,  flippantly,  with  a  nod  of  his  head  to 
ward  Bellevue  Hospital,  back  of  them. 


172        THE  JUMP  AT  COREY'S   SLIP. 

As  ill  luck  would  have  it,  Mooney  came  up 
just  then,  and  they  told  him  what  they  were 
discussing. 

"  I'll  bet  Tommy  Grant  wouldn't  be  afeard 
to  try  it,"  said  one  of  the  youngest. 

That  was  enough  for  Mr.  Mooney.  He 
said  with  a  sneer  that  Tommy  would  be 
afraid,  and  of  course  Tommy  was  told  of  this 
at  once,  and  Tommy,  after  a  careful  survey 
of  the  jump,  said  it  was  suicide.  And  then 
Mooney  called  him  a  coward,  and  said  he'd 
do  it,  and  he'd  show  him  who  was  fit  to  lead 
the  gang. 

The  elder  boys  told  him  not  to  be  a  fool, 
Tommy  among  the  number  ;  but  he  said  they 
were  cry-babies,  and  told  them  to  keep  quiet 
about  it  and  to  meet  at  the  wharf  at  seven 
that  evening. 

The  tide  was  low  then,  and  the  piles  showed 
high  above-  the  water.  At  high  tide  they 
were  covered,  and  besides  there  were  very  few 
people  about  at  that  hour. 

At  seven  o'clock  twenty  of  them  gathered 
at  the  end  of  the  wharf.  They  were  badly 
scared  and  wished  they  were  well  out  of  it, 
but  there  was  no  stopping  Mooney.  The 
more  they  begged  him  not  to  do  it,  the  more 


THE  JUMP  AT  COEEY'S  SLIP.        173 

he  laughed  at  them.  He  climbed  the  ladder 
to  the  top  of  the  derrick  alone,  and  stripped 
off  every  thread  but  his  swimming  tights  and 
the  scapular  around  his  neck.  The  big  posts 
rose  out  of  the  water  in  front  of  the  slip 
—  black,  slimy-looking,  and  as  pitiless  as 
rocks. 

Van  Bibber  and  some  of  his  friends  in  their 
steam  yacht  lying  at  anchor  off  the  New 
York  Yacht  Club's  wharf  saw  the  boy  mount 
ing  the  ladder  and  shouted  to  the  other  boys 
to  stop  him.  The  other  boys  would  have 
liked  to  do  what  the  gentlemen  suggested, 
but  it  was  too  late.  But  Tommy  ran  half 
way  up  the  ladder,  begging  his  rival  to  come 
down.  Mooney  swore  at  him  to  go  back,  and 
Tommy  hung  there  half-way  up  and  fearful 
to  do  more  lest  he  should  rattle  the  ex-leader 
of  the  gang. 

The  gentlemen  on  the  yacht  told  two  of 
the  crew  to  jump  into  the  rowboat  and  pick 
the  young  fool  up,  and  the  sailors  ran  to  cast 
off  the  skiff. 

Then  they  saw  Mooney  outlined  against 
the  dark  background  of  the  tenements,  as 
motionless  as  a  marble  statue  on  a  high  ped 
estal. 


174         THE  JUMP  AT  COREY'S    SLIP, 

He  raised  his  arms  slowly  over  his  head 
until  the  finger  tips  met  and  interlaced,  then 
he  bent  his  knees  and  his  body  swung  forward. 
There  was  a  brief,  breathless  silence  as  he 
dived  out  and  down,  and  then  a  yell  from  the 
yacht  and  a  gasping  cry  from  the  boys,  as  they 
saw  him  throw  out  his  hands  wildly  to  save 
himself,  and  saw  that  he  had  misjudged  the 
distance  and  would  strike  the  posts.  Some 
of  the  youngest  boys  turned  sick  and  sank 
whimpering  to  their  knees,  and  six  of  the 
older  ones  dived  like  one  man  into  the  water 
to  pull  him  out.  He  had  struck  the  posts 
with  his  arm,  had  turned,  striking  them 
again,  and  then  sank  without  a  cry  into  the 
river. 

The  sailors  in  the  rowboat  had  just  started 
toward  the  spot  and  the  club  men  were  curs 
ing  them  for  their  slowness.  The  six  boys  in 
the  water  were  shut  off  from  Mooney  by  the 
posts,  and  slipped  back  after  they  had  tried 
vainly  to  climb  over  them. 

"He's  killed.  He'll  be  drowned.  Ah,  he's 
sunk  for  good,"  the  boys  wailed  and  cried  in 
chorus. 

Young  Tommy  from  his  post  half-way  up 
the  ladder,  saw  that  before  the  boat  could 


THE  JUMP  AT  COBEY'S   SLIP.        175 

reach  his  rival,  or  the  boys  could  get  around 
the  piles  to  him,  he  would  be  drowned,  and 
so  he  ran  up  the  rest  of  the  ladder,  poised  for 
just  a  second,  and  then  took  the  second  and  last 
jump  that  was  ever  taken  from  Corey's  slip. 
He  cleared  the  posts  by  an  inch  or  two,  turned 
in  the  water  before  he  had  gone  half-way  into 
it,  and  dived  to  where  he  saw  the  white  body 
settling  towards  the  bottom. 

The  sailors  in  the  rowboat  reached  him  in 
time  to  pull  him  out  and  carry  him  to  the 
yacht  with  the  bruised  and  unconscious  body 
of  his  rival  in  his  arms.  Then  the  gentlemen 
sent  Mooney  over  to  the  hospital,  and  wanted 
to  make  up  a  purse  for  Tommy,  but  he  said  it 
was  "all  right"  and  "hadn't  done  nuthin' 
anyhow."  It  took  several  weeks  for  Mooney 's 
leg  and  arm  to  knit,  and  he  limped  for  months 
afterward. 

The  gentlemen  on  the  yacht  wanted  to  com 
promise  by  giving  Tommy  a  medal,  but  he 
said  he'd  had  enough  trouble  over  the  last 
medal,  and  asked  why  they  did  not  give  it  to 
Mooney,  for  he  had  taken  the  jump  in  cold 
blood;  "an*  I,"  said  Tommy,  "just  did  it  be 
cause  I  was  in  a  hurry  to  get  down." 

So  Van  Bibber  and  the  other  yachtsmen 


176        THE  JUMP  AT  COREY'S  SLIP. 

gave  Mooney  a  very  fine  medal,  which  told 
that  he  was  the  "  Champion  Diver  of  the 
East  River."  And  now  there  are  two  leaders 
to  the  gang,  though  each  protests  that  the 
other  is  the  only  one. 


THE  VAN   BIBBER   BASEBALL 
CLUB. 


YOUNG  Van  Bibber  decided  that  he  ought 
to  take  some  people  to  the  circus.  He  had 
long  outgrown  the  age  when  the  circus  only 
pleased,  but  some  of  the  men  had  said  it  was 
the  thing  to  do  just  as  it  was  the  thing  to  go 
incognito  to  see  Carmencita  dance  ;  and  so 
he  purchased  a  big  box  in  the  very  centre  of 
the  lowest  tier  and  wrote  to  Mrs.  Dick  Was 
sails  that  it  was  at  her  service  and  that  she 
could  fill  it  with  whom  she  pleased.  He 
added  that  he  would  expect  them  to  take 
supper  with  him  later. 

He  owed  Mrs.  Dick,  as  everybody  called 
her,  a  great  deal  for  many  social  favors,  and 
he  thought  to  make  things  even  in  this  way ; 
but  Mrs.  Dick  was  engaged  for  that  evening, 
and  said  she  was  so  sorry  and  begged  to  be 
excused.  So  young  Van  Bibber  sent  off  a 
note  to  the  Gramercys,  with  whom  he  wished 
to  become  more  intimate,  and  whom  he 

177 


178     THE  VAN  BIBBER  BASEBALL   CLUB. 

wished  to  put  under  an  obligation.  But  they 
were  just  going  abroad  and  were  in  the  midst 
of  preparations  and  they  also  begged  to  be 
excused. 

It  was  getting  very  near  the  night  now,  and 
Van  Bibber  ran  over  in  his  mind  the  names 
of  all  of  those  people  to  whom  he  owed  some 
thing  or  who  might  some  day  do  something 
for  him.  He  tried  the  Van  Warps,  because 
they  owned  a  yacht,  but  they  were  going  to  a 
wedding ;  and  he  tried  the  Van  Blunts,  on 
account  of  their  house  at  Lenox,  and  found 
that  their  great  uncle  had  just  died  and  that 
they  were  going  to  the  funeral.  Then  he 
asked  the  men  in  the  club,  but  the  one  who 
gave  such  good  dinners  thought  it  would  be 
too  much  of  a  bore  ;  and  another,  whose  sister 
Van  Bibber  wanted  to  know  better,  said  he 
was  afraid  he  would  catch  cold,  and  others, 
all  of.  whom  had  been  civil  to  him  in  one 
way  or  another,  began  to  make  excuses.  So 
young  Van  Bibber  stood  on  the  steps  of  the 
club  and  kicked  viciously  at  the  mat.  He 
decided  that  his  friends  were  a  very  poor 
lot.  "  One  would  think  I  was  trying  to 
borrow  money  from  them,"  soliloquized  Van 
Bibber. 


THE  VAN  BIBBER  BASEBALL   CLUB.    179 

"  Where  to  ?  "  asked  the  driver  of  the  han 
som. 

"  To  the  circus,"  said  Van  Bibber.  It  was 
a  long  ride,  and  he  had  time  to  make  up  his 
mind  that  he  had  been  foolish  in  starting  out ; 
but  as  he  was  already  more  than  half-way 
there  he  kept  on.  He  had  determined  to  see 
that  circus  himself  in  solitary  state  from 
that  box,  notwithstanding  his  irresponsive 
friends. 

But  at  the  entrance  to  the  circus  three 
small  boys,  in  every  way  representatives  of  the 
coming  "  tough,"  waylaid  him  for  ten  cents 
to  get  into  the  side  show — only  ten  cents, 
that  was  all  they  wanted.  They  did  not 
aspire  to  such  a  pinnacle  of  happiness  as  the 
circus  itself.  But  Young  Van  Bibber  saw  a 
way  to  use  his  box  and  to  show  his  smart 
friends  how  somebody,  at  least,  appreciated 
his  invitations. 

"  Go  get  three  more  boys  like  you,"  he 
said ;  "  dirty  boys  that  haven't  seen  the  cir 
cus,  and  I'll  take  you  in." 

The  three  youths  looked  at  him  uncertainly 
for  a  moment. 

"Ah,  he's  kiddin'  us,"  said  one  of  them, 
doubtfully. 


180     THE  VAN   BIBBER  BASEBALL   CLUB. 

But  there  was  such  an  innocent  and  embar 
rassed  expression  on  young  Van  Bibber's  face 
that  they  concluded  he  must  mean  it. 

"  Besides,"  said  one  of  them,  "  don't  you'se 
see  he's  a  priest  ?  He  wouldn't  tell  no  lies." 

Van  Bibber  for  the  first  time  became  con 
scious  of  his  white  lawn  tie  and  his  long 
cape-cloak. 

"Priests  don't  go  to  circuses,"  suggested 
one  of  the  trio. 

"  Are  you  going  to  get  those  other  boys  or 
not?"  asked  Van  Bibber,  impatiently.  It 
really  seemed  as  if  nobody  was  willing  to  go 
with  him.  But  there  was  over  a  dozen  boys 
about  him  by  this  time,  and  he  picked  out 
three  of  the  smallest  and  raggedest.  Then 
he  shoved  them  all  into  the  circus  before  him 
like  so  many  chickens  and  saw,  without  car 
ing,  that  the  men  by  the  door  were  laughing 
at  him. 

The  boys  raced  about  at  first  and  yelled  to 
each  other  to  come  see  this  animal,  and  to 
watch  that  one  shaking  the  bars.  Van  Bibber 
wandered  around  after  them.  They  seemed 
to  be  having  a  very  good  time,  and  he  felt  a 
queer  sensation  of  satisfaction  in  some  one 
else's  pleasure  which  was  oddly  pleasing. 


THE   VAN  BIBBER  BASEBALL   CLUB.     181 

Then  they  flocked  back  to  him  again  and 
informed  him  it  was  time  to  "get  into  the 
show  part,"  and  so  he  led  them,  to  the  grave 
disgust  of  the  attendants,  to  the  principal 
box  in  the  place. 

"  My  eyes !  but  I  wish  de  boys  could  see 
me  now,"  said  one  of  them,  pride  and  happi 
ness  beaming  from  every  feature  of  his  face. 
"  I  guess  this  is  old  man  Barnum's  box,  for 
sure." 

Van  Bibber  sat  in  the  back  of  the  box.  He 
didn't  mind  how  the  people  around  them 
smiled.  He  felt  himself  very  far  above  them, 
and  in  a  position  to  do  as  many  eccentric 
things  as  he  pleased.  And  he  found  himself 
enjoying  the  show  and  the  friendly  interest 
his  guests  took  in  him,  and  in  their  fear  lest 
he  couldn't  see  everything,  or  that  he  might 
miss  what  the  clowns  said. 

He  stopped  the  man  who  sold  peanuts  and 
candies,  and  distributed  them  lavishly.  It 
was  cheaper  by  far  than  a  Delmonico  supper, 
and  he  enjoyed  seeing  the  half-famished  way 
in  which  the  young  rascals  fell  upon  the  sup 
plies  and  stowed  them  away.  They  were 
really  very  noisy  and  wildly  excited,  but  he 
didn't  care.  He  never  remembered  having 


182     THE   VAN  BIBBER  BASEBALL   CLUB. 

given  anybody  so  much  extreme  pleasure  be 
fore  in  his  life. 

When  it  was  all  over  and  the  big  spectacu 
lar  show  that  had  held  them  breathless  had 
ended,  he  fought  his  way  out  to  the  waiting 
hansom,  very  well  pleased  with  the  night's 
experience.  But  before  he  got  away  his  guests 
crowded  around  him  at  the  door,  and  one  of 
them,  who,  as  they  had  privately  informed 
him,  was  no  less  distinguished  an  individual 
than  the  captain  of  Open  Lots  Baseball  Club, 
of  which  they  were  all  members,  thanked  him 
very  civilly  and  asked  him  his  name.  He  gave 
the  captain  his  card  with  grave  politeness  and 
shook  hands  with  all  of  them  with  equal 
solemnity,  and  then  drove  down  town  and 
had  a  solitary  supper.  On  the  whole,  he  con 
cluded  that  though  he  had  made  nothing  by 
it,  he  had  not  wasted  the  box,  and  he  went 
to  bed  satisfied. 

And  two  days  later  he  received  in  a  very 
dirty  envelope  the  following  epistle : 

DEAR  SIR  —  At  a  meeting  of  the  Open 
Lots  Baseball  Club  it  was  voted,  on  account 
of  your  kindness,  to  change  the  name  to  the 
Courtland  Van  Bibber  Baseball  Club,  which 


THE   VAN  BIBBER  BASEBALL   CLUB.     183 

it  is  now,  as  a  mark  of  our  apreshun  of  your 
kindness.     Truly  yours, 

TERENCE  FAHEY  McGLOiN, 

Capt.  C.  Van.  B.  B.  B.  C. 

"  So,"  said  Van  Bibber,  as  he  put  the  letter 
carefully  away,  "  It  pays  to  go  out  into  the 
highways,  after  all." 


THE   STORY   OF  A  JOCKEY. 


YOUNG  Charley  Chadwick  had  been  brought 
up  on  his  father's  farm  in  New  Jersey.  The 
farm  had  been  his  father's  before  his  father 
died,  and  was  still  called  Chadwick's  Meadows 
in  his  memory.  It  was  a  very  small  farm,  and 
for  the  most  part  covered  with  clover  and  long, 
rich  grass,  that  were  good  for  pasturing,  and 
nothing  else.  Charley  was  too  young,  and 
Mrs.  Chadwick  was  too  much  of  a  housekeeper 
and  not  enough  of  a  farmer's  wife,  to  make  the 
most  out  of  the  farm,  and  so  she  let  the  mead 
ows  to  the  manager  of  the  Cloverdale  Stock 
Farm.  This  farm  is  only  half  a  mile  back 
from  the  Monmouth  Park  race  track  at  Long 
Branch. 

The  manager  put  a  number  of  young  colts 
in  it  to  pasture,  and  took  what  grass  they  did 
not  eat  to  the  farm.  Charley  used  to  ride 
these  colts  back  to  the  big  stables  at  night, 
and  soon  grew  to  ride  very  well,  and  to  know 

184 


THE  STOET  OF  A  JOCKEY.  185 

a  great  deal  about  horses  and  horse  breeding 
and  horse  racing.  Sometimes  they  gave  him 
a  mount  at  the  stables,  and  he  was  permitted 
to  ride  one  of  the  race  horses  around  the 
private  track,  while  the  owner  took  the  time 
from  the  judges'  stand. 

There  was  nothing  in  his  life  that  he  en 
joyed  like  this.  He  had  had  very  few  pleas 
ures,  and  the  excitement  and  delight  of 
tearing  through  the  air  on  the  back  of  a 
great  animal,  was  something  he  thought 
must  amount  to  more  than  anything  else  in 
the  world.  His  mother  did  not  approve  of 
his  spending  his  time  at  the  stables,  but  she 
found  it  very  hard  to  refuse  him,  and  he 
seemed  to  have  a  happy  faculty  of  picking  up 
only  what  was  good,  and  letting  what  was  evil 
pass  by  him  and  leave  him  unhurt.  The  good 
that  he  picked  up  was  his  love  for  animals, 
his  thoughtfulness  for  them,  and  the  forbear 
ance  and  gentleness  it  taught  him  to  use, 
with  even  the  higher  class  of  animals  who 
walk  on  two  legs. 

He  was  fond  of  all  the  horses,  because  they 
were  horses ;  but  the  one  he  liked  best  was 
Heroine,  a  big  black  mare  that  ran  like  an 
express  train.  He  and  Heroine  were  the  two 


186  THE  STOET  OF  A   JOCKEY. 

greatest  friends  in  the  stable.  The  horse 
loved  him  as  a  horse  does  love  its  master 
sometimes,  and  though  Charley  was  not  her 
owner,  he  was  in  reality  her  master,  for 
Heroine  would  have  left  her  stall  and  carried 
Charley  off  to  the  ends  of  the  continent  if  he 
had  asked  her  to  run  away. 

When  a  man  named  Oscar  Behren  bought 
Heroine,  Charley  thought  he  would  never  be 
contented  again.  He  cried  about  it  all  along 
the  country  road  from  the  stables  to  his  home, 
and  cried  about  it  again  that  night  in  bed. 
He  knew  Heroine  would  feel  just  as  badly 
about  it  as  he  did,  if  she  could  know  they 
were  to  be  separated.  Heroine  went  off  to 
run  in  the  races  for  which  her  new  master 
had  entered  her,  and  Charley  heard  of  her 
only  through  the  newspapers.  She  won  often, 
and  became  a  great  favorite,  and  Charley  was 
afraid  she  would  forget  the  master  of  her 
earlier  days  before  she  became  so  famous. 
And  when  he  found  that  Heroine  was  entered 
to  run  at  the  Monmouth  Park  race  track,  he 
became  as  excited  over  the  prospect  of  seeing 
his  old  friend  again,  as  though  he  were  going 
to  meet  his  promised  bride,  or  a  long-lost 
brother  who  had  accumulated  several  millions 
in  South  America. 


THE  STORY  OF  A  JOCKEY.  187 

He  was  at  the  station  to  meet  the  Behren 
horses,  and  Heroine  knew  him  at  once  and 
he  knew  Heroine,  although  she  was  all  blan 
keted  up  and  had  grown  so  much  more  beau 
tiful  to  look  at,  that  it  seemed  like  a  second 
and  improved  edition  of  the  horse  he  had 
known.  Heroine  won  several  races  at  Long 
Branch,  and  though  her  owner  was  an  un 
popular  one,  and  one  of  whom  many  queer 
stories  were  told,  still  Heroine  was  always 
ridden  to  win,  and  win  she  generally  did. 

The  race  for  the  July  Stakes  was  the  big 
race  of  the  meeting,  and  Heroine  was  the 
favorite.  Behren  was  known  to  be  backing 
her  with  thousands  of  dollars,  and  it  was 
almost  impossible  to  get  anything  but  even 
money  on  her.  The  day  before  the  race  Mc- 
Callen,  the  jockey  who  was  to  ride  her,  was 
taken  ill,  and  Behren  was  in  great  anxiety 
and  greatly  disturbed  as  to  where  he  could 
get  a  good  substitute.  Several  people  told 
him  it  made  no  difference,  for  the  mare  was 
as  sure  as  sure  could  be,  no  matter  who  rode 
her.  Then  some  one  told  him  of  Charley, 
who  had  taken  out  a  license  when  the  racing 
season  began,  and  who  had  ridden  a  few  un 
important  mounts. 


188  THE  STORY  OF  A  JOCKEY. 

Behren  looked  for  Charley  and  told  him 
he  would  want  him  to  ride  for  the  July 
Stakes,  and  Charley  went  home  to  tell  his 
mother  about  it,  in  a  state  of  wild  delight. 
To  ride  the  favorite,  and  that  favorite  in 
such  a  great  race,  was  as  much  to  him  as  to 
own  and  steer  the  winning  yacht  in  the  trans 
atlantic  match  for  the  cup. 

He  told  Heroine  all  about  it,  and  Heroine 
seemed  very  well  pleased.  But  while  he  was 
standing  hidden  in  Heroine's  box  stall,  he 
heard  something  outside  that  made  him  won 
der.  It  was  Behren's  voice,  and  he  said  in  a 
low  tone :  — 

"  Oh,  McCallen's  well  enough,  but  I  didn't 
want  him  for  this  race.  He  knows  too  much. 
The  lad  I've  got  now,  this  country  boy, 
wouldn't  know  if  the  mare  had  the  blind 
staggers." 

Charley  thought  over  this  a  great  deal,  and 
all  that  he  had  learned  on  the  tracks  and 
around  the  stables  came  to  assist  him  in  judg 
ing  what  it  was  that  Behren  meant ;  and  that 
afternoon  he  found  out. 

The  race  track  with  the  great  green  enclos- 
sures  and  the  grand  stand  as  high  as  a  hill, 
were  as  empty  as  a  college  campus  in  vaca- 


THE  STORY  OF  A  JOCKEY.  189 

tion  time,  but  for  a  few  of  the  stable  boys 
and  some  of  the  owners,  and  a  colored  waiter 
or  two.  It  was  interesting  to  think  what  it 
would  be  like  a  few  hours  later  when  the 
trains  had  arrived  from  New  York  with 
eleven  cars  each  and  the  passengers  hanging 
from  the  steps,  and  the  carriages  stretched 
all  the  way  from  Long  Branch.  Then 
there  would  not  be  a  vacant  seat  on  the 
grand  stand  or  a  blade  of  grass  untram- 
pled. 

Charley  was  not  nervous  when  he  thought 
of  this,  but  he  was  very  much  excited.  How- 
land  S.  Maitland,  who  owned  a  stable  of 
horses  and  a  great  many  other  expensive 
things,  and  who  was  one  of  those  gentlemen 
who  make  the  racing  of  horses  possible,  and 
Curtis,  the  secretary  of  the  meeting,  came 
walking  towards  Charley  looking  in  at  the 
different  horses  in  the  stalls. 

"  Heroine,"  said  Mr.  Maitland,  as  he  read 
the  name  over  the  door.  "  Can  we  have  a 
look  at  her?"  he  said. 

Charley  got  up  and  took  off  his  hat. 

"  I  am  sorry,  Mr.  Maitland,"  he  said,  "  but 
my  orders  from  Mr.  Behren  are  not  to  allow 
any  one  inside.  I  am  sure  if  Mr.  Behren 


190  THE  STORY  OF  A   JOCKEY. 

were  here  he  would  be  very  glad  to  show 
you  the  horse ;  but  you  see,  I'm  responsible, 
sir,  and  —  " 

"  Oh,  that's  all  right ! "  said  Mr.  Maitland 
pleasantly,  as  he  moved  on. 

"  There's  Mr.  Behren  now,"  Charley  called 
after  him,  as  Behren  turned  the  corner.  "  I'll 
run  and  ask  him." 

"  No,  no,  thank  you,"  said  Mr.  Maitland 
hurriedly,  and  Charley  heard  him  add  to  Mr. 
Curtis,  "  I  don't  want  to  know  the  man."  It 
hurt  Charley  to  find  that  the  owner  of  Hero 
ine  and  the  man  for  whom  he  was  to  ride 
was  held  in  such  bad  repute  that  a  gentleman 
like  Mr.  Maitland  would  not  know  him,  and 
he  tried  to  console  himself  by  thinking  that 
it  was  better  he  rode  Heroine  than  some  less 
conscientious  jockey  whom  Behren  might  order 
to  play  tricks  with  the  horse  and  the  public. 
Mr.  Behren  came  up  with  a  friend,  a  red- 
faced  man  with  a  white  derby  hat.  He  pointed 
at  Charley  with  his  cane.  "  My  new  jockey," 
he  said.  "  How's  the  mare?"  he  asked. 

"  Very  fit,  sir,"  Charley  answered. 

44  Had  her  feed  yet?" 

"  No,"  Charley  said. 

The  feed  was  in  a  trough  which  the  stable 


THE  STORY  OF  A  JOCKEY.  191 

boy  had  lifted  outside  into  the  sun.  They 
were  mixing  it  under  Charley's  supervision, 
for  as  a  rider  he  did  not  stoop  to  such  menial 
work  as  carrying  the  water  and  feed ;  but  he 
always  overlooked  the  others  when  they  did 
it.  Behren  scooped  up  a  handful  and  exam 
ined  it  carefully. 

"  It's  not  as  fresh  as  it  ought  to  be  for  the 
price  they  ask,"  he  said  to  the  friend  with 
him.  Then  he  threw  the  handful  of  feed 
back  into  the  trough  and  ran  his  hand  through 
it  again,  rubbing  it  between  his  thumb  and 
fingers  and  tasting  it  critically.  Then  they 
passed  on  up  the  row. 

Charley  sat  down  again  on  an  overturned 
bucket  and  looked  at  the  feed  trough,  then 
he  said  to  the  stable  boys,  "  You  fellows  can 
go  now  and  get  something  to  eat  if  you  want 
to."  They  did  not  wait  to  be  urged.  Char 
ley  carried  the  trough  inside  the  stable  and 
took  up  a  handful  of  the  feed  and  looked  and 
sniffed  at  it.  It  was  fresh  from  his  own  barn ; 
he  had  brought  it  over  himself  in  a  cart  that 
morning.  Then  he  tasted  it  with  the  end  of 
his  tongue  and  his  face  changed.  He  glanced 
around  him  quickly  to  see  if  any  one  had 
noticed,  and  then,  with  the  feed  still  clenched 


192  THE  STORY  OF  A   JOCKEY. 

in  his  hand,  ran  out  and  looked  anxiously  up 
and  down  the  length  of  the  stable.  Mr.  Mait- 
land  and  Curtis  were  returning  from  the  other 
end  of  the  road. 

"  Can  I  speak  to  you  a  moment,  sir?"  said 
Charley  anxiously;  "will  you  come  in  here 
just  a  minute?  It's  most  important,  sir.  I 
have  something  to  show  you." 

The  two  men  looked  at  the  boy  curiously, 
and  halted  in  front  of  the  door.  Charley 
added  nothing  further  to  what  he  had  said, 
but  spread  a  newspaper  over  the  floor  of  the 
stable  and  turned  the  feed  trough  over  on  it. 
Then  he  stood  up  over  the  pile  and  said, 
"  Would  you  both  please  taste  that?  " 

There  was  something  in  his  manner  which 
made  questions  unnecessary.  The  two  gen 
tlemen  did  as  he  asked.  Then  Mr.  Curtis 
looked  into  Mr.  Maitland's  face,  which  was 
full  of  doubt  and  perplexity,  with  one  of 
angry  suspicion. 

"  Cooked,"  he  said. 

"  It  does  taste  strangely,"  commented  the 
horse  owner  gravely. 

"  Look  at  it ;  you  can  see  if  you  look  close 
enough,"  urged  Curtis  excitedly.  "Do  you 
see  that  green  powder  on  my  finger  ?  Do  you 


THE  STORY   OF  A  JOCKEY.  193 

know  what  that  is  ?  An  ounce  of  that  would 
turn  a  horse's  stomach  as  dry  as  a  lime-kiln. 
Where  did  you  get  this  feed?"  he  demanded 
of  Charley. 

"  Out  of  our  barn,"  said  the  boy.  "  And 
no  one  has  touched  it  except  myself,  the 
stable  boys,  and  the  owner." 

"Who  are  the  stable  boys?"  demanded 
Mr.  Curtis. 

"Who's  the  owner?"  asked  Charley. 

"Do  you  know  what  you  are  saying?" 
warned  Mr.  Maitland  sharply.  "You  had 
better  be  careful." 

"  Careful !  "  said  Charley  indignantly.  "  I 
will  be  careful  enough." 

He  went  over  to  Heroine,  and  threw  his 
arm  up  over  her  neck.  He  was  terribly 
excited  and  trembling  all  over.  The  mare 
turned  her  head  towards  him  and  rubbed  her 
nose  against  his  face. 

"  That's  all  right,"  said  Charley.  "  Don't 
you  be  afraid.  I'll  take  care  of  you'' 

The  two  men  were  whispering  together. 

"  I  don't  know  anything  about  you,"  said 
Mr.  Maitland  to  Charley.  "I  don't  know 
what  your  idea  was  in  dragging  me  into  this. 
I'm  sure  I  wish  I  was  out  of  it.  But  this  I 


194  THE  STORY  OF  A   JOCKEY. 

do  know,  if  Heroine  isn't  herself  to-day,  and 
doesn't  run  as  she  has  run  before,  and  I  say 
it  though  my  own  horses  are  in  against  her, 
I'll  have  you  and  your  owner  before  the 
Racing  Board,  and  you'll  lose  your  license 
and  be  ruled  off  every  track  in  the  country." 

"  One  of  us  will,"  said  Charley  stubbornly. 
"  All  I  want  you  to  do,  Mr.  Maitland,  is  to 
put  some  of  that  stuff  in  your  pocket.  If 
anything  is  wrong  they  will  believe  what 
you  say,  when  they  wouldn't  listen  to  me. 
That's  why  I  called  you  in.  I  haven't 
charged  any  one  with  anything.  I  only 
asked  you  and  Mr.  Curtis  to  taste  the  feed 
that  this  horse  was  to  have  eaten.  That's 
all.  And  I'm  not  afraid  of  the  Racing  Board, 
either,  if  the  men  on  it  are  honest." 

Mr.  Curtis  took  some  letters  out  of  his 
pocket  and  filled  the  envelopes  with  the  feed, 
and  then  put  them  back  in  his  pocket,  and 
Charley  gathered  up  the  feed  in  a  bucket 
and  emptied  it  out  of  the  window  at  the 
back  of  the  stable. 

"I  think  Behren  should  be  told  of  this," 
said  Mr.  Maitland. 

Charley  laughed ;  he  was  still  excited  and 
angry.  "  You  had  better  find  out  which  way 


THE  STOEY  OF  A  JOCKEY.  195 

Mr.  Behren  is  betting,  first,"  he  said,  — "if 
you  can." 

"  Don't  mind  the  boy.  Come  away,"  said 
Mr.  Curtis.  "  We  must  look  into  this." 

The  Fourth  of  July  holiday  makers  had 
begun  to  arrive ;  and  there  were  thousands 
of  them,  and  they  had  a  great  deal  of  money, 
and  they  wanted  to  bet  it  all  on  Heroine. 
Everybody  wanted  to  bet  on  Heroine  ;  and 
the  men  in  the  betting  ring  obliged  them. 
But  there  were  three  men  from  Boston  who 
were  betting  on  the  field  against  the  favorite. 
They  distributed  their  bets  in  small  sums  of 
money  among  a  great  many  different  book 
makers ;  even  the  oldest  of  the  racing  men 
did  not  know  them.  But  Mr.  Behren  seemed 
to  know  them.  He  met  one  of  them  openly, 
in  front  of  the  grand  stand,  and  the  stranger 
from  Boston  asked  politely  if  he  could  trouble 
him  for  a  light.  Mr.  Behren  handed  him  his 
cigar,  and  while  the  man  puffed  at  it  he 
said :  — 

"We've  got  $50,000  of  it  up.  It's  too 
much  to  risk  on  that  powder.  Something 
might  go  wrong ;  you  mightn't  have  mixed 
it  properly,  or  there  mayn't  be  enough.  I've 
known  it  miss  before  this.  Minerva  she  won 


196  THE  STORY  OF  A  JOCKEY. 

once  with  an  ounce  of  it  inside  her.  You'd 
better  fix  that  jockey." 

Mr.  Behren's  face  was  troubled,  and  he 
puffed  quickly  at  his  cigar  as  the  man  walked 
away.  Then  he  turned  and  moved  slowly 
towards  the  stables.  A  gentleman  with  a 
field-glass  across  his  shoulder  stopped  him 
and  asked,  "How's  Heroine?"  and  Mr. 
Behren  answered,  "  Never  better ;  I've 
110,000  on  her,"  and  passed  on  with  a  confi 
dent  smile.  Charley  saw  Mr.  Behren  coming, 
and  bit  his  lip  and  tried  to  make  his  face 
look  less  conscious.  He  was  not  used  to 
deception.  He  felt  much  more  like  plunging 
a  pitchfork  into  Mr.  Behren's  legs ;  but  he 
restrained  that  impulse,  and  chewed  gravely 
on  a  straw.  Mr.  Behren  looked  carefully 
around  the  stable,  and  wiped  the  perspiration 
from  his  fat  red  face.  The  day  was  warm, 
and  he  was  excited. 

"  Well,  my  boy,"  he  said  in  a  friendly, 
familiar  tone  as  he  seated  himself,  "it's 
almost  time.  I  hope  you  are  not  rattled." 
Charley  said  "  No,"  he  felt  confident  enough. 

"  It  would  be  a  big  surprise  if  she  went 
back  on  us,  wouldn't  it?"  suggested  the 
owner  gloomily. 


THE  STOEY  OF  A  JOCKEY.  197 

"  It  would,  indeed,"  said  Charley. 

"Still,"  said  Mr.  Behren,  "such  things 
have  been.  Racin'  is  full  of  surprises,  and 
horses  are  full  of  tricks.  I've  known  a  horse, 
now,  get  pocketed  behind  two  or  three  others 
and  never  show  to  the  front  at  all.  Though 
she  was  the  best  of  the  field,  too.  And  I've 
known  horses  go  wild  and  jump  over  the 
rail  and  run  away  with  the  jock,  and,  some 
times,  they  fall.  And  sometimes  I've  had  a 
jockey  pull  a  horse  on  me  and  make  me  drop 
every  cent  I  had  up.  You  wouldn't  do  that, 
would  you?"  he  asked.  He  looked  up  at 
Charley  with  a  smile  that  might  mean  any 
thing.  Charley  looked  at  the  floor  and 
shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  I  ride  to  orders,  I  do,"  he  said.  "I  guess 
the  owner  knows  his  own  business  best. 
When  I  ride  for  a  man  and  take  his  money  I 
believe  he  should  have  his  say.  Some  jockeys 
ride  to  win.  I  ride  according  to  orders."  He 
did  not  look  up  after  this,  and  he  felt  thank 
ful  that  Heroine  could  not  understand  the 
language  of  human  beings.  Mr.  Behren's 
face  rippled  with  smiles.  This  was  a  jockey 
after  his  own  heart.  "If  Heroine  should 
lose,"  he  said,  —  "I  say,  if  she  should,  for  no 


198  THE  STORY  OF  A   JOCKEY. 

one  knows  what  might  happen,  —  I'd  have  to 
abuse  you  fearful  right  before  all  the  people. 
I'd  swear  at  you  and  say  you  lost  me  all  my 
money,  and  that  you  should  never  ride  for  me 
again.  And  they  might  suspend  you  for  a 
month  or  two,  which  would  be  very  hard  on 
you,"  he  added  reflectively.  "  But  then,"  he 
said  more  cheerfully,  "if  you  had  a  little 
money  to  live  on  while  you  were  suspended 
it  wouldn't  be  so  hard,  would  it  ?  "  He  took 
a  large  roll  of  bank  bills  from  his  pocket  and 
counted  them,  smoothing  them  out  on  his  fat 
knee  and  smiling  up  at  the  boy. 

"It  wouldn't  be  so  bad,  would  it?"  he 
repeated.  Then  he  counted  aloud,  "Eight 
hundred,  nine  hundred,  one  thousand."  He 
rose  and  placed  the  bills  under  a  loose  plank 
of  the  floor,  and  stamped  it  down  on  them. 
"  I  guess  we  understand  each  other,  eh  ?  "  he 
said. 

"  I  guess  we  do,"  said  Charley. 

"I'll  have  to  swec^r  at  you,  you  know," 
said  Behren,  smiling. 

"  I  can  stand  that,"  Charley  answered. 
***** 

As  the  horses  paraded  past  for  the  July 
Stakes,  the  people  rushed  forward  down  the 


He  took  a  large  roll  of  bank  bills  from  his  pocket  and  counted  them, 


THE  STORY  OF  A   JOCKEY.  199 

inclined  enclosure  and  crushed  against  the 
rail  and  cheered  whichever  horse  they  best 
fancied. 

"Say,  you,"  called  one  of  the  crowd  to 
Charley,  "you  want  to  win,  you  do.  I've 
got  $5  on  that  horse  you're  a-riding."  Char 
ley  ran  his  eyes  over  the  crowd  that  were 
applauding  and  cheering  him  and  Heroine, 
and  calculated  coolly  that  if  every  one  had 
only  $5  on  Heroine  there  would  be  at  least 
$100,000  on  the  horse  in  all. 

The  man  from  Boston  stepped  up  beside 
Mr.  Behren  as  he  sat  on  his  dog-cart  alone. 

"  The  mare  looks  very  fit,"  he  said  anx 
iously.  "  Her  eyes  are  like  diamonds.  I  don't 
believe  that  stuff  affected  her  at  all." 

"  It's  all  right,"  whispered  Behren  calmly. 
"I've  fixed  the  boy."  The  man  dropped  back 
off  the  wheel  of  the  cart  with  a  sigh  of  relief, 
and  disappeared  in  the  crowd.  Mr.  Maitland 
and  Mr.  Curtis  sat  together  on  the  top  of  the 
former's  coach.  Mr.  Curtis  had  his  hand  over 
the  packages  of  feed  in  his  pockets.  "  If  the 
mare  don't  win,"  he  said,  "  there  will  be  the 
worst  scandal  this  track  has  ever  known." 
The  perspiration  was  rolling  down  his  face. 
"  It  will  be  the  death  of  honest  racing." 


200  THE  STORY  OF  A  JOCKEY. 

"  I  cannot  understand  it,"  said  Mr.  Mait- 
land.  "  The  boy  seemed  honest,  too." 

The  horses  got  off  together.  There  were 
eleven  of  them.  Heroine  was  amongst  the 
last,  but  no  one  minded  that  because  the  race 
was  a  long  one.  And  within  three-quarters 
of  a  mile  of  home  Heroine  began  to  shake  off 
the  others  and  came  up  slowly  through  the 
crowd,  and  her  thousands  of  admirers  yelled. 
And  then  Maitland's  Good  Morning  and 
Reilly  swerved  in  front  of  her,  or  else  Heroine 
fell  behind  them,  it  was  hard  to  tell  which, 
and  Lady  Betty  closed  in  on  her  from  the 
right.  Her  jockey  seemed  to  be  trying  his 
best  to  get  her  out  of  the  triangular  pocket 
into  which  she  had  run.  The  great  crowd 
simultaneously  gave  an  anxious  questioning 
gasp.  Then  two  more  horses  pushed  to  the 
front,  closing  the  favorite  in  and  shutting  her 
off  altogether, 

"  The  horse  is  pocketed,"  cried  Mr.  Curtis, 
"  and  not  one  man  out  of  a  thousand  would 
know  that  it  was  done  on  purpose." 

"Wait!"  said  Mr.  Maitland. 

"  Bless  that  boy ! "  murmured  Behren,  trying 
his  best  to  look  anxious.  "She  can  never 
pull  out  of  that."  They  were  within  half  a 


THE  STORY  OF  A   JOCKEY.  201 

mile  of  home.  The  crowd  was  panic-stricken 
and  jumping  up  and  down.  "  Heroine  ! "  they 
cried,  as  wildly  as  though  they  were  calling 
for  help,  or  the  police  — "  Heroine  ! " 

Charley  heard  them  above  the  noise  of  the 
pounding  hoofs,  and  smiled  in  spite  of  the 
mud  and  dirt  that  the  great  horses  in  front 
flung  in  his  face  and  eyes. 

"  Heroine,"  he  said,  "  I  think  we've  scared 
that  crowd  about  long  enough.  Now,  punish 
Behren."  He  sank  his  spurs  into  the  horse's 
sides  and  jerked  her  head  towards  a  little 
opening  between  Lady  Betty  and  Chubb. 
Heroine  sprang  at  it  like  a  tiger  and  came 
neck  to  neck  with  the  leader.  And  then,  as 
she  saw  the  wide  track  empty  before  her,  and 
no  longer  felt  the  hard  backward  pull  on 
her  mouth,  she  tossed  her  head  with  a  snort, 
and  flew  down  the  stretch  like  an  express, 
with  her  jockey  whispering  fiercely  in  her  ear. 
Heroine  won  with  a  grand  rush,  by  three 
lengths,  but  Charley's  face  was  filled  with 
anxiety  as  he  tossed  up  his  arm  in  front  of 
the  judges'  stand.  He  was  covered  with  mud 
and  perspiration,  and  panting  with  exertion 
and  excitement.  He  distinguished  Mr.  Curtis' 
face  in  the  middle  of  the  wild  crowd  around 


202  THE  STOIiY   OF  A   JOCKEY. 

him,  that  patted  his  legs  and  hugged  and 
kissed  Heroine's  head,  and  danced  up  and 
down  in  the  ecstasy  of  delight. 

"Mr.  Curtis,"  he  cried,  raising  his  voice 
above  the  tumult  of  the  crowd,  and  forget 
ting,  or  not  caring,  that  they  could  hear, 
"  send  some  one  to  the  stable,  quick.  There's 
a  thousand  dollars  there  Behreri  offered  me 
to  pull  the  horse.  It's  under  a  plank  near 
the  back  door.  Get  it  before  he  does.  That's 
evidence  the  Racing  Board  can't  —  " 

But  before  he  could  finish,  or  before  Mr. 
Curtis  could  push  his  way  towards  him,  a 
dozen  stable  boys  and  betting  men  had  sprung 
away  with  a  yell  towards  the  stable,  and  the 
mob  dashed  after  them.  It  gathered  in  vol 
ume  as  a  landslide  does  when  it  goes  down 
hill;  and  the  people  in  the  grand  stand  and 
on  the  coaches  stood  up  and  asked  what  was 
the  matter ;  and  some  cried  "  Stop  thief  !  " 
and  others  cried  "  Fight ! v  and  others  said 
that  a  bookmaker  had  given  big  odds  against 
Heroine,  and  was  "  doing  a  welsh."  The 
mob  swept  around  the  corner  of  the  long 
line  of  stables  like  a  charge  of  cavalry,  and 
dashed  at  Heroine's  lodgings.  The  door  was 
open,  and  on  his  knees  at  the  other  end  was 


THE  STORY  OF  A   JOCKEY.  203 

Beliren,  digging  at  the  planks  with  his  finger 
nails.  He  had  seen  that  the  boy  had  inten 
tionally  deceived  him ;  and  his  first  thought, 
even  before  that  of  his  great  losses,  was  to 
get  possession  of  the  thousand  dollars  that 
might  be  used  against  him.  He  turned  his 
fat  face,  now  white  with  terror,  over  his 
shoulder,  as  the  crowd  rushed  into  the  stable, 
and  tried  to  rise  from  his  knees;  but  before 
he  could  get  up,  the  first  man  struck  him 
between  the  eyes,  and  others  fell  on  him, 
pummelling  him  and  kicking  him  and  beating 
him  down.  If  they  had  lost  their  money, 
instead  of  having  won,  they  could  not  have 
handled  him  more  brutally.  Two  policemen 
and  a  couple  of  men  with  pitchforks  drove 
them  back ;  and  one  of  the  officers  lifted  up 
the  plank,  and  counted  the  thousand  dollars 
before  the  crowd. 

Either  Mr.  Maitland  felt  badly  at  having 
doubted  Charley,  or  else  he  admired  his 
riding ;  for  he  bought  Heroine  when  Behren 
was  ruled  off  the  race  tracks  and  had  to  sell 
his  horses,  and  Charley  became  his  head 
jockey.  And  just  as  soon  as  Heroine  began 
to  lose,  Mr.  Maitland  refused  to  have  her 
suffer  such  a  degradation,  and  said  she  should 


204  THE  STORY  OF  A   JOCKEY. 

stop  while  she  could  still  win.  And  then  he 
presented  her  to  Charley,  who  had  won  so 
much  and  so  often  with  her ;  and  Charley 
gave  up  his  license  and  went  back  to  the 
farm  to  take  care  of  his  mother,  and  Heroine 
played  all  day  in  the  clover  fields. 


Typography  by  J.  S.  dishing  &  Co.,  Boston. 
Presswork  by  Berwick  &  Smith,  Boston. 


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THE  WAGNER  STORY  BOOK 

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A   NEW   BOOK   BY    KIRK   MUNROE 
AT  WAR  WITH   PONTIAC 

OR,  THE  TOTEM  OF  THE  BEAR.  A  Tale  of  Redcoat  and  Redskin.  By  KIRK 
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goes  in  search  of  his  sister  Edith,  who  has  been  captured  by  the  Indians.  Strange 
and  terrible  are  his  experiences :  for  he  is  wounded,  taken  prisoner,  condemned  to 
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the  English,  and  all  things  terminate  happily  for  the  hero.  One  dares  not  skip  a 
page  of  this  enthralling  story. 

THE  WHITE  CONQUEROR 

A  TALE  OF  TOLTEC  AND  AZTEC.  By  KIRK  MUNROE.  With  8  full-page  illustra 
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—Philadelphia  Bulletin. 

STORIES  OF  LITERATURE,  SCIENCE,  AND  HISTORY 

By  HENRIETTA  CHRISTIAN  WRIGHT. 

A   NEW   VOLUME  JUST  ISSUED. 

CHILDREN'S  STORIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE,  1660-1860.  i2mo,  $1.25. 
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into  the  English  language,  Irving,  Cooper,  Prescott,  Holmes,  Longfellow,  Haw 
thorne,  Mrs.  Stowe,  Whittier,  Poe,  and  Emerson  are  here  considered,  bringing  the 
history  of  the  subject  down  to  the  period  of  the  Civil  War,  and  treated  with  con 
stant  reference  to  that  side  of  their  works  and  personalities  which  most  nearly 
appeals  to  children. 

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child  who  has  read  this  book  will  be  more  thoroughly  acquainted  than  many  a 
student  of  history  with  the  life  and  thought  of  the  centuries  over  which  the  work 
reaches." — The  Evangelist. 

CHILDREN'S    STORIES   OF   THE    GREAT    SCIENTISTS.      With  portraits. 

121110,  $1.25. 

"  The  author  has  succeeded  in  making  her  pen-pictures  of  the  great  scientists  as 
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has  picturesquely  grouped  the  essential  features  of  scientific  achievement." 

— Brooklyn  Times. 

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dation.  Taken  together  they  present  a  series  of  pictures  of  great  graphic  interest. 
The  illustrations  are  excellent."—  The  Nation. 

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— San  Francisco  Evening  Post. 


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G.  A.   HENTY'S    POPULAR   5TORIES    FOR   BOYS 

New  Volumes  for  1895-96.     Each,  crown  8vo,  handsomely  illustrated,  $1.50. 

Mr.  Henty,  the  most  popular  writer  of  Books  of  Adventure  in  England,  adds  three 
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side  who  have  become  his  ardent  admirers. 

"  Mr.  Henty's  books  never  fail  to  interest  boy  readers.  Among  writers  of  stories 
of  adventure  he  stands  in  the  very  first  rank." — Academy,  London. 

"  No  country  nor  epoch  of  history  is  there  which  Mr.  Henty  does  not  know,  and 
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like  stirring  adventures,  and  Mr.  Henty  is  a  master  of  this  method  of  composi 
tion." — New  York  Times, 

A   KNIGHT  OF  THE  WHITE  CROSS 

A  TALE  OF  THE  SIEGE  OF  RHODES.    With  12  full-page  illustrations. 

Gervaise  Tresham,  the  hero  of  this  story,  joins  the  Order  of  the  Knights  of  St.  John, 
and  leaving  England  he  proceeds  to  the  stronghold  of  Rhodes,  and  becomes  a 
page  in  the  household  of  the  Grand  Master.  Subsequently,  Gervaise  is  made  a 
Knight  of  the  Grand  Cross  for  valor,  while  soon  after  he  is  appointed  commander 
of  a  war-galley,  and  in  his  first  voyage  destroys  a  fleet  of  Moorish  corsairs.  Dur 
ing  one  of  his  cruises  the  young  knight  is  attacked  on  shore-  captured  after  a 
desperate  struggle,  and  sold  into  slavery  in  Tripoli.  He  succeeds  in  escaping, 
however,  and  returns  to  Rhodes  in  time  to  take  part  in  the  splendid  defence  of 
that  fortress.  Altogether  a  fine  chivalrous  tale,  of  varied  interest  and  full  noble 
daring. 

THE  TIGER  OF  MYSORE 

A  STORY  OF  THE  WAR  WITH  TIPPOO  SAIB.    With  12  full-page  illustrations. 

Dick  Holland,  whose  father  is  supposed  to  be  a  captive  of  Tippoo  Saib,  goes  to 
India  to  help  him  to  escape.  He  joins  the  army  under  Lord  Cornwallis,  and  takes 
part  in  the  campaign  against  Tippoo.  Afterwards  he  assumes  a  disguise;  enters 
Seringapatum,  the  capital  of  Mysore,  rescues  Tippoo's  harem  from  a  tiger,  and  is 
appointed  to  high  office  by  the  tyrant.  In  this  capacity  Dick  visits  the  hill  fort 
resses,  still  in  search  of  his  father,  and  at  last  he  discovers  him  in  the  great  strong 
hold  of  Savandroog.  The  hazardous  rescue  which  Dick  attempts,  and  the  perilous 
night  ride  through  the  enemy's  country  are  at  length  accomplished,  and  the  young 
fellow's  dangerous  mission  is  done. 

THROUGH   RUSSIAN  SNOWS 

A  STORY  OF  NAPOLEON'S  RETREAT  FROM  Moscow.  With  8  full-page  illustrations 
and  a  map. 

The  hero,  Julian  Wyatt,  after  several  adventures  with  smugglers,  by  whom  he  is 
handed  over  a  prisoner  to  the  French,  regains  his  freedom  and  joins  Napoleon's 
army  in  the  Russian  campaign,  and  reaches  Moscow  with  the  victorious  Emperor. 
Then,  when  the  terrible  retreat  begins,  Julian  finds  himself  in  the  rear  guard  of  the 
French  army,  fighting  desperately,  league  by  league,  against  famine,  snow-storms, 
wolves,  and  Russians.  Ultimately  he  escapes  out  of  the  general  disaster,  after 
rescuing  the  daughter  of  a  Russian  count;  makes  his  way  to  St.  Petersburg,  and 
then  returns  to  England.  A  story  with  an  excellent  plot,  exciting  adventures,  and 
splendid  historical  interests. 


o         SCRIBNE^S  tBOOKS  FOR    THE   YOUNG 
G.  A.   HENTY'S    POPULAR   5TORIES    FOR    BOYS 

Each,  crown  8vo,  handsomely  illustrated,  $1.50. 

IN  THE  HEART  OF  THE  ROCKIES.  A  STORY  OF  ADVENTURE  IN  COLORADO. 
"  One  of  the  most  interesting  and  attractive  stories  for  boys.  It  is  a  tale  of  adven 
ture  thrilling  enough  for  the  most  daring  readers."— Boston  Journal. 

WULF  THE  SAXON.     A  STORY  OF  THE  NORMAN  CONQUEST. 
"An  unusually  realistic  picture  of  the  times.     The  scenes  and  incidents  which  Mr. 
Henty  introduces  are  calculated  to  awaken  fresh  interest  in  the  influence  of  the 
battle  of  Hastings  upon  the  destiny  of  mankind."— Boston  Herald. 

WHEN  LONDON  BURNED.  A  STORY  OF  RESTORATION  TIMES  AND  THE 
CRKAT  FIRE. 

"  An  exciting  story  of  adventure,  at  the  same  time  dealing  with  historic  truths 
deftly  and  interestingly." — Detroit  Free  rress. 

ST.  BARTHOLOMEW'S  EVE.     A  TALE  OF  THE  HUGUENOT  WARS. 

"  Exciting  enough  to  interest  even  the  dullest  of  readers."— Boston  Transcript. 

THROUGH  THE   SIKH  WAR.     A  TALE  OF  THK  CONQUEST  OF  THE  TUNJAUB. 

"Not  only  interesting  hut  instructive.  It  is  related  with  great  spirit  and  anima 
tion." — Boston  Herald. 

A  JACOBITE  EXILE.  BEING  THK  ADVENTURES  OF  A  YOUNG  ENGLISHMAN 
IN  THK  SERVICE  OK  CHARLES  XII.  OF  SWEDEN. 

"  Remarkable  for  its  thrilling  adventures  and  its  interesting  historical  pictures." 

— Herald  and  Presbyter. 

BERIC  THE   BRITON.     A  STORY  OF  THE  ROMAN  INVASION. 
"  It  is  a  powerful  and  fascinating  romance." — Boston  Post. 

IN  GREFK  WATERS.  A  STORY  OF  THE  GRECIAN  WAR  OF  INDEPENDENCE 
—1821-1827. 

"  It  is  a  stirring  narrative,  wholesome  and  stimulating." — Congregationalist. 

CONDEMNED   AS  A  NIHILIST.     A  STORY  OF  ESCAPE  FROM  SIBERIA. 

"  A  narrative  absorbing  and  thrilling.  The  scenes  of  Siberian  prison-life  give  the 
book  a  peculiar  value." — Christian  Advocate. 

REDSKIN   AND  COWBOY.     A  TALE  OF  THE  WESTERN  PLAINS. 

"  Though  it  is  full  of  hairbreadth  escapes,  none  of  the  incidents  are  improbable.     It 

is  needless  to  say  that  the  adventures  are  well  told."— San  Francisco  Chronicle. 

THE   DASH   FOR  KHARTOUM.    A  TALE  OF  THE  NILE  EXPEDITION. 
HELD  FAST  FOR  ENGLAND.    A  TALE  OF  THE  SIEGE  OF  GIBRALTAR. 

*:•.;*  The  above  are  Mr.  Henty'' s  latest  books.  A  full  descriptive  list  containing 
all  'if  Mr.  Hrtitv'  s  books — now  47  in  number — will  be  sent  to  any  address  OH 
application.  They  are  all  attractively  illustrated  and  handsomely  bound. 


SCRIBNb^S  <BOOKS  FOR    THE   YOUhG         7 
SAMUEL   ADAMS    DRAKE'S    HISTORICAL    BOOKS 

THE   MAKING   OF  THE   OHIO   VALLEY    STATES.      1660-1837.      Illustrated. 

121UO,  $1.50. 

THE    MAKING    OF   VIRGINIA   AND  THE  MIDDLE  COLONIES.      1578-1701. 

Illustrated.     121110,  $1.50. 

THE    MAKING   OF   NEW    ENGLAND.     1580-1643.      With  148  illustrations  and 

with  maps.     I2mo,  $1.50. 

THE  MAKING  OF  THE  GREAT  WEST.     1812-1853.     With  145  illustrations  and 

with  maps.     121110,  $1.50. 

"  The  author's  aim  in  these  books  is  that  they  shall  occupy  a  place  between  the 
larger  and  lesser  histories  of  the  lands  and  of  the  periods  of  which  they  treat,  P. 
that  each  topic  therein  shall  be  treated  as  a  unit  and  worked  out  to  a  cle  u'     • 
standing  of  its  objects  and  results  before  passing  to  another  topic.     In  the  furtii     - 
ance  of  this  method  each  subject  has  its  own  descriptive  notes,  maps,  p.ans, 
illustrations,  the  whole  contributing  to  a  thorough,  though  condensed,  knowledge 
of  the  subject  in  hand."— New  York  Mail  and  Express. 

POEMS   OF   CHILDHOOD    BY    EUGENE    FIELD 

LOVE  SONGS  OF  CHILDHOOD.     161110,  «i.oo. 

WITH   TRUMPET  AND   DRUM.     By  EUGENE  FIELD.     161110,  $1.25. 

"  His  poems  of  childhood  have  gone  home,  not  only  to  the  hearts  of  children,  but 
to  the  heart  of  the  country  as  well,  and  he  is  one  of  the  few  contributors  to  that 
genuine  literature  of  childhood  which  expresses  ideas  from  the  stand-point  of  a 
child."—  The  Outlook. 

THE    NORSELAND    SERIES 

By  H.  H.  BOYESEN. 

NORSELAND  TALES.     Illustrated.     121110,  $1.25. 

BOYHOOD  IN  NORWAY  :  NINE  STORIES  OF  DEEDS  OF  THE  SONS  OF  THE 
VIKINGS.  With  8  illustrations.  121110,  $1.25. 

AGAINST  HEAVY  ODDS,  AND  A  FEARLESS  TRIO.  With  13  full-page  illustra 
tions  by  W.  L.  TAYLOR.  121110,  $1.25. 

THE  MODERN  VIKINGS  :  STORIES  OF  LIFE  AND  SPORT  IN  THE  NORSK- 
LAND.  With  many  full-page  illustrations.  121110,  $1.25. 

The  four  above  volumes  in  a  box,  $5.00. 

"  Charmingly  told  stories  of  boy-life  in  the  Land  of  the  Midnight  Sun,  illustrated 
with  pictures  giving  a  capital  'idea  of  the  incidents  and  scenes  described.  The 
tales  have  a  delight  all  their  own,  as  they  tell  of  scenes  and  sports  and  circum 
stances  so  different  from  those  of  our  American  life."— New  York  Observer. 

TWO  BOOKS  BY  ROSSITER  JOHNSON 

THE  END  OF  A  RAINBOW.  AN  AMERICAN  STORY.  Illustrated.  121110,  «i..so. 
"  It  will  be  read  with  breathless  interest  It  is  interesting  and  full  of  boyish  ex 
perience." —  7Vz£  Independent. 

PHAETON  ROGERS.     A  NOVEL  OF  BOY  LIFE.     Illustrated.    121110,  $1.50. 


8         SCRIBNE^S  'BOOKS  FOR    THE   YOUNG 
MRS.   BURTON    HARRISON'S   TALES 

BRIC=A=BRAC  STORIES.     With   24  illustrations  by  WALTER  CRANE.     121110, 

"  It  is  to  be  wished  that  every  boy  and  girl  might  become  acquainted  with  the  con 
tents  of  this  book." — JULIAN  HAWTHORNE. 

THE  OLD  FASHIONED  FAIRY  BOOK.  Illustrated  by  ROSINA  EMMET. 
161110,  $1.25. 

"  The  little  ones,  who  so  willingly  go  back  with  us  to  'Jack  the  Giant  Killer,' 
'  Bluebeard,'  and  the  kindred  stories  of  our  childhood,  will  gladly  welcome  Mrs. 
Burton  Harrison's  'Old-Fashioned  Fairy  Tales.'" — FRANK  R.  STOCKTON. 

BOOKS   OF   ADVENTURE    BY   ROBERT   LEIGHTON 

OLAF  THE  GLORIOUS.  A  STORY  OK  OLAF  TRIGGVISON,  KING  OF  NORWAY, 
A.D.  995-1000.  Crown  8vo,  with  numerous  full-page  illustrations,  $1.50. 

THE  WRECK  OF  THE  GOLDEN  FLEECE.  THE  STORY  OF  A  NORTH  SEA 
FISHER  BOY.  Illustrated.  Crown  8vo,  $1.50. 

THE  THIRSTY  SWORD.  A  STORY  OF  THE  NORSE  INVASION  OF  SCOTLAND, 
1262-65.  With  8  illustrations  and  a  map.  Crown  8vo,  $1.50. 

THE  PILOTS  OF  POMONA.  A  STORY  OF  THE  ORKNEY  ISLANDS.  With  8 
illustrations  and  a  map.  Crown  8vo,  $1.50. 

"  Mr.  Leighton  as  a  writer  for  boys  needs  no  praise,  as  his  books  place  him  in  the 
front  rank."— New  York  Observer. 

THINGS  WILL  TAKE  A  TURN 

By  BEATRICE  HARRADEN,  author  of  "  Ships  That  Pass  in  the  Night."  Illustrated. 
121110,  $1.00. 

The  charm  of  this  tale  is  its  delicate,  wistful  sympathy.  It  is  the  story  of  a  sunny- 
hearted  child,  Rosebud,  who  assists  her  grandfather  in  his  dusty,  second-hand 
bookshop.  One  cannot  help  being  fascinated  by  the  sweet  little  heroine,  she  is  so 
engaging,  so  natural ;  and  to  love  Rosebud  is  to  love  all  her  friends  and  enter 
sympathetically  into  the  good  fortune  she  brought  them. 

AMONG  THE   LAWMAKERS 

By  EDMUND  ALTON.     Illustrated.     Square  8vo,  $1.50. 

"  The  book  is  a  diverting  as  well  as  an  instructive  one.  Mr.  Alton  was  in  his 
early  days  a  page  in  the  Senate,  and  he  relates  the  doings  of  Congress  from  the 
point  of  view  he  then  obtained.  His  narrative  is  easy  and  piquant,  and  abounds 
in  personal  anecdotes  about  the  great  men  whom  the  pages  waited  on." 

—  Christian   Union. 

EVENING    TALES 

PONF.  INTO  ENGLISH  FROM  THE  FRENCH  OF  FREDERIC  ORTOLI,  BY  JOEL 
CHANDLER  HARRIS.  i2tno,  $1.00. 

"  It  is  a  veritable  French  '  Uncle  Remus '  that  Mr.  Harris  has  discovered  in 
Frederic  Ortoli.  The  book  has  the  genuine  piquancy  of  Gallic  wit,  and  will  be 
sure  to  charm  American  children.  Mr.  Harris's  version  is  delightfully  written." 

— Boston  Beacon. 


SCRIBNE^S  <BOOKS  FOR    THE   YOUNG 


HEROES   OF  THE   OLDEN  TIME 

By  JAMES  BALDWIN.  Three  volumes,  12010,  each  beautifully  illustrated.  Singly, 
$1.50 ;  the  set,  $4.00. 

A  STORY  OF  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.     Illustrated  by  HOWARD  PYLE. 
"Mr.  Baldwin's  book  is   redolent  with   the  spirit  of  the  Odyssey,  that  glorious 
primitive  epic,  fresh  with  the  dew  of  the  morning  of  time.     It  is  an  unalloyed  pleas 
ure  to  read  his  recital  of  the  adventures  of  the  wily  Odysseus.     Howard  Pyle's 
illustrations  render  the  spirit  of  the  Homeric  age  with  admirable  felicity." 

—Prof.  H.  H.  BOYESEN. 

THE  STORY  OF  SIEGFRIED.     Illustrated  by  HOWARD  PYLE. 
"The  story  of  'Siegfried'  is  charmingly  told.     The  author  makes   up  the  story 
from  the  various  myths   in   a  fascinating  way  which  cannot   fail  to  interest   the 
reader.     It  is  as  enjoyable  as  any  fairy  ta.\e."— Hartford  Courant. 

THE  STORY  OF  ROLAND.     Illustrated  by  R.  B.  BIRCH. 

"  Mr.  Baldwin  has  culled  from  a  wide  range  of  epics,  French,  Italian,  and  German, 

and  has  once  more  proved  his  aptitude  as  a  story-teller  for  the  young." 

—  The  Nation. 

THE  BOY'S  LIBRARY  OF  LEGEND  AND  CHIVALRY 

Edited  by  SIDNEY  LANIER,  and  richly  illustrated  by  FREDERICKS,  BENSELL,  and 
KAPPES.  Four  volumes,  cloth,  uniform  binding,  price  per  set,  $7.00.  Sold  sepa 
rately,  price  per  volume,  $2.00. 

Mr.  Lanier's  books  present  to  boy  readers  the  old  English  classics  of  history  and 
legend  in  an  attractive  form.  While  they  are  stories  of  action  and  stirring  incident, 
they  teach  those  lessons  which  manly,  honest  boys  ought  to  learn. 

THE  BOY'S  KING  ARTHUR 

THE  BOY'S  FROISSART 

THE  BOY'S   PERCY 

THE  KNIGHTLY   LEGENDS  OF  WALES 

FRANK  R.  STOCKTON'S   BOOKS  FOR   THE   YOUNG 

"  His  books  for  boys  and  girls  are  classics." — Newark  Advertiser. 

THE  CLOCKS  OF  RONDAINE,  AND  OTHER  STORIES.  With  24  illustrations 
by  BLASHFIELD,  ROGERS,  BEARD,  and  others.  Square  8vo,  $1.50.  ? 

PERSONALLY  CONDUCTED.  Illustrated  by  PENNELL,  PARSONS,  and  others- 
Square  8vo,  $2.00. 

THE   STORY   OF  VITEAU.     Illustrated  by  R.  B.  BIRCH.     i2mo,  $1.50. 
A  JOLLY   FELLOWSHIP.     With  20  illustrations.     i2mo,  $1.50. 

THE     FLOATING    PRINCE    AND     OTHER     FAIRY    TALES.       Illustrated 

Square  8vo,  $1.50. 

THE  TING-A-LING  TALES.     Illustrated.     121110,  $1.00. 

ROUNDABOUT  RAMBLES  IN  LANDS  OF  FACT  AND  FICTION.  Illus 
trated.  Square  Svo,  $1.50. 

TALES  OUT  OF  SCHOOL.     With  nearly  200  illustrations.     Square  Svo,  $1.50. 

"  The  volumes  are  profusely  illustrated  and  contain  the  most  entertaining 
sketches  in  Mr.  Stockton's  most  entertaining  manner." — Christian  Union. 


io       SCRIBNE^'S  "BOOKS   FOR    THE   YOUNG 


EDWARD  EGGLESTON'S  TWO  POPULAR  BOOKS 

THE   HOOSIER  SCHOOL-BOY.     Illustrated.     121110,  $1.00. 

"  '  The  Hoosier  School-Boy'  depicts  some  of  the  characteristics  of  boy-life  years 
ago  on  the  Ohio;  characteristics,  however,  that  were  not  peculiar  to  that  section. 
The  story  presents  a  vivid  and  interesting-  picture  of  the  difficulties  which  in  those 
days  beset  the  path  of  the  youth  aspiring  for  an  education." 

— Chicago  Inter-Ocean. 

QUEER  STORIES  FOR  BOYS  AND  GIRLS.     121110,  $1.00. 

"A  very  bright  and  attractive  little  volume  for  young  readers.  The  stories  are 
fresh,  breezy,  and  healthy,  with  a  good  point  to  them  and  a  good,  sound  American 
view  of  life  and  the  road 'to  success.  The  book  abounds  in  good  feeling  and  good 
sense,  and  is  written  in  a  style  of  homely  art." — Independent. 

HANS    DRINKER 

Or,  THE  SILVER  SKATES.  A  Story  of  Life  in  Holland.  By  MARY  MAPES 
DODGK.  \Vith  60  illustrations.  121110,  $1.50. 

"  The  author  has  shown,  in  her  former  works  for  the  young,  a  very  rare  ability  to 
meet  their  wants  ;  but  she  has  produced  nothing  better  than  this  charming  tale — 
alive  with  incident  and  action,  adorned  rather  than  freighted  with  useful  facts, 
and  moral  without  moralization." — The  Nation. 

TWO   BOOKS   OF   SPORTS   AND   GAMES 

THE  AMERICAN  BOY'S  HANDY  BOOK  ;  OR,  WHAT  TO  Do  AND  How  TO 
Do  rr.  By  DANIEL  C.  BEARD.  With  360  illustrations  by  the  author.  Square 

8vu,  $2.00. 

"  The  book  has  this  great  advantage  over  its  predecessors,  that  most  of  the  games, 
tricks,  and  other  amusements  described  in  it  are  new.  It  treats  of  sports  adapted 
to  all  seasons  of  the  year  ;  it  is  practical,  and  it  is  well  illustrated." 

— New  York  Tribune. 

THE  AMERICAN  GIRL'S  HANDY  BOOK.  By  LENA  and  ADKLIA  B.  BEARD. 
With  over  500  illustrations  by  the  authors.  Square  8vo,  £2.00. 

"  I  have  put  it  in  my  list  of  good  and  useful  books  for  young  people,  as  I  have  many 
requests  for  advice  from  my  little  friends  and  their  anxious  mothers.  lam  most 
happy  to  commend  your  very  ingenious  and  entertaining  book." 

-LOUISA  M.  AI.COTT. 

THOMAS  NELSON  PAGE'S  TWO  BOOKS 

AMONG  THE  CAMPS;  OR,  YOUNG  PEOPLE'S  STORIES  OF  THE  WAR.  With 
8  full-page  illustrations.  Square  8vo,  $1.50. 

"  They  are  five  in  number,  each  having  reference  to  some  incident  of  the  Civil 
War.  A  vein  of  mingled  pathos  and  humor  runs  through  them  all,  and  greatly 
heightens  the  charm  of  them.  It  is  the  early  experience  of  the  author  himself, 
doubtless,  which  makes  his  pictures  of  life  in  a  Southern  home  during  the  great 
struggle  so  vivid  and  truthful." — The  Nation. 

TWO  LITTLE  CONFEDERATES.  With  8  full-page  illustrations  by  KEMBI.E 
and  REDWOOD.  Square  8vo,  $1.50. 

"Mr   Page  was  'raised'   in  Virginia,  and  he  knows  the  'darkey'  of  the  South 
better  than  any  one  who  writes  about  them.     And  he  knows     white  folks,    t( 
and  his  stories;  whether  for  old  or  young  people,  have  the  charm  of  sincerity  and 
beauty  and  reality."— Harper's  Young  People. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 
BERKELEY 

Return  to  desk  from  which  borrowed 
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